THE  REIGN  OF 
QUEEN  1SYL 


THE  REIGN  OF 


BY  GELETT  BURGESS 
AND  WILL  IRWIN 


NEW  YORK 

McCLURE,  PHILLIPS  &  COMPANY 
MCMIV 


Copy  right  t    1903,   by 

McCLURE,   PHILLIPS   &  Co. 

Published,   November,    1903 


SECOND    IMPRESSION 


Cofyright,  1903,  by  THE  RIDGWAY-THAYKR  COMPANY 


To  M.  E.  G. 

With  gratitude  and  loyalty 

G.  B.    W.  I. 


G6916S 


A  TABLE  OF  THE  MATTERS 

I 
PROLOGUE 

*IHOW  gaffer  Golcher  sate  in  his  inn  and  watched 
the  feast  of  Saint  Joseph  and  those  that  journeyed  there 
to  :  his  parley  with  a  knight  adventurous,  and  how  they 
made  merry  over  the  goodwife  :  The  Tale  of  Love 
Strategic  ......  Page  3 

ii 

THE  CORONATION 

*IHOW  La  Qeale  Norine  disappeared  from  the  castle 
and  the  Lady  Isyl  was  crowned  in  her  stead.  How 
the  queen  sate  in  the  great  ball  in  dolor  and  was  com- 
forted  by  a  mysterious  stranger :  The  Tale  of  Love 
Terpsichorcan  .....  Page  3Q 

[v] 


A  TABLE  OF  THE  MATTERS 

III 
THE  GRAND  COMMANDER 


Queen  Isyl  was  rescued  of  her  plight  by  her 
knights,  and  was  Wooed  by  the  Grand  Commander  :  The 
Tale  of  Love  Juvenile  ....  Page  58 

IV 
THE  COMBAT 

§HOW  Sir  Tomas  the  Scalawag  with  Queen  Isyl 
quested  for  La  Beale  Norine  and  did  battle  with  a 
knight.  How  the  Grand  Commander  Was  unhorsed, 
and  the  Queen  met  a  hermit  in  a  Wood  :  The  Tale  of 
Love  Militant  .....  Page  84 

V 
THE  PAGEANT 

*HHOW  Queen  Isyl  rode  in  state  through  the  city,  and 
saw  a  face  at  a  window.  How  the  Chamberlain  sought 
to  discover  the  mystery  and  was  hindered  by  a  stranger, 
and  how  the  two  outwitted  the  spy  :  The  Tale  of  Love 
Sartorial  ......  Page  105 

[vi] 


A  TABLE  OF  THE  MATTERS 

VI 

THE  QUEST 

Queen  Isyl  was  impeached  of  treason  and 
besought  the  service  of  her  knights.  Of  their  quest  for 
La  Beale  Norine,  and  how  the  Grand  Commander 
rescued  a  fair  damsel  in  distress  :  The  Tale  of  Love 
Insidious  ......  Page  128 

VII 

THE  BANQUET 

^IHOW  the  Chamberlain  conspired  to  see  the 
Queen's  ring  privily,  and  enticed  her  into  captivity. 
//on?  she  was  succoured  by  Sir  Tomas  the  Scalawag, 
and  held  in  hostage  :  The  Tale  of  Love  Recusant. 

Page   155 

VIII 

THE  PLAISAUNCE 

^IHOW  Sir  Tomas  the  Scalawag  sought  for  La  Qeale 
Norine  and  encountered  the  Grand  Commander.  Of 
the  mystic  maze,  and  how  Sir  Tomas  was  sought  to  be 
enmeshed  therein,  while  the  scholard  talked  with  a 
chapman  :  The  Tale  of  Love  Loquacious  Page  1 9 1 

[vii] 


A  TABLE  OF  THE  MATTERS 

DC 

THE  CARNIVAL 

*!HOW  Sir  Tomas  the  Scalawag  brought  a  letter 
from  La  $eale  Norine  and  rescued  Queen  Isyl  from 
captivity.  How  heralds  let  cry  a  Masque  of  Unrea 
son.  Of  a  fool  who  usurped  the  throne  and  wooed 
the  Queen.  Of  the  unmasking,  and  how  La  $)eale 
Norine  was  found:  The  Tale  of  Love  Politic. 

Page  221 

X 

EPILOGUE 

<IHOW  La  Beale  Norine  finished  her  tale,  and  the 
Queen  was  affianced  before  the  Court  .  Page  251 


[viii] 


THE  REIGN  OF 
QUEEN  ISYL 


I 

PROLOGUE 

€J  HOW  gaffer  Golcher  sate  in  his  inn  and  watched 
the  feast  of  Saint  Joseph  and  those  that  journeyed  there 
to  :  his  parley  with  a  knight  adventurous,  and  how  they 
made  merry  over  the  goodwife:  The  Tale  of  Love 
Strategic. 

OLD  man  Golcher  sat  at -the  door  of 'his 
road-house,  smoking  a  corn-cob  pipe  and 
studying  over  a  problem  in  the  chess  col 
umn  of  the  San  Francisco  "  Chronicle/* 

The  landscape  lay  beaten  flat  and  grey  under 
the  retreating  sunshine  of  Santa  Clara,  the  hottest, 
kindest  sun  that  smiles  on  California.  File  on  file  of 
green  fruit  trees,  bending  like  weeping  willows  under 
their  half-ripe  loads,  stretched  back  to  the  moun 
tains. 

Where  road  met  hill,  a  speck  appeared;  it  dipped 
into  a  hollow,  was  lost,  reappeared  again.     It  was 
[3] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ISYL 
followed  by  another  and  yet  another.     Old  man 
Golcher  gazed  at  the  approaching  vehicles  over  his 
paper,  and  committed  himself  to  an  opinion. 

"  Blamed,  bustin'  fools  ! "  he  said.  Then  he  fell 
back  into  silence,  resuming  his  study  of  his  knight*s 
move,  until  the  first  wagon  came  pulling  through  the 
dust  and  drew  up  at  the  watering-trough. 

It  was  a  two-seated  surrey  of  ample  and  matron 
ly  proportions.  In  front,  sat  a  woman  formed  like 
her  conveyance;  through  the  open  throat  of  her 
linen  duster  one  could  catch  a  glimpse  of  pink  mus 
lin,  Fta  -TAHi  beside  her  was  also  in  festival  attire ; 
liis  CAM-:  wa?  shiny  black,  and  when,  in  process  of 
wiping  away  the  dust,  he  took  the  protecting  hand 
kerchief  from  his  collar,  he  disclosed  a  robin's-egg- 
blue  tie  of  astonishing  make.  Behind,  sat  two  girls, 
large,  plump,  cosey,  and  most  good  to  look  upon. 
Linen  dusters  hid  their  finery,  also,  but  it  was  sug 
gested  by  elaborate  hats  and  the  white  kid  gloves 
they  carried  in  their  hands. 

"  Hello,  Bill ! "  said  the  man  of  the  party,  loos 
ening  his  horse's  check-rein,  "  where's  your  store 
clothes?" 

"  My  store  clothes,"  remarked  old  man  Golcher, 
deliberately,  "  is  where  they've  been  for  goin'  on 
[4] 


PROLOGUE 

twenty-two  years — in  the  lower  left-hand  corner  of 
the  cedar  chest,  about  midway  up,  between  the 
marriage  licence  and  a  Bible.  I've  had  no  call  for 
any  of  'em  since.  I  don't  have  to  get  'em  out  to 
know  I'm  a  married  man." 

"But  ain't  you  goin'  to  the  Fiesta,  Mr.  Gol- 
cher?"  asked  the  larger,  and  by  a  shade  the 
prettier  of  the  two  damsels. 

"  I  am  not,"  said  Golcher,  whereat  he  flicked  a 
horsefly  away  from  his  cowhide  boots  and  gazed 
at  the  landscape.  The  slobbering  of  drinking 
horses  broke  a  painful  silence. 

"  I  am  not,"  he  went  on.  "  There  bein'  ladies 
present,  I  ain't  givin'  my  ideas  on  Fi-estas.  But 
don't  you  let  those  darters  of  yours,  John  Bates, 
ever  grow  up  to  be  Fi-esta  queens !  If  I  had  a 
sweet  and  lovely  package  of  innercence  under  my 
protectin'  care,  an'  she  was  took  with  the  Fi-esta 
wheel  in  her  sun-bunnit,  I'd  talk  to  her  in  some 
such  caressin'  words  as  this : 

1  *  Look  here,  darter,'  I'd  say,  *  what  you  need  is 
exercise  an'  employment.  They's  six  ton  of  alfalfa 
hay  that  needs  mountin'  back  in  the  barn.  By  the 
time  you've  done  with  that,  an'  washed  mother's 
dishes  an'  dipped  a  few  boxes  of  prunes,  you'll  feel 
[5] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  1SYL 
better.     I'm  sayin'  this  for  your  good,  and  papa 

I  I  '  '* 

loves  you ! 

The  prettier  girl  giggled.  Mrs.  Bates  drew  her 
self  up  haughtily.  "  Youth  must  have  its  fling/* 
she  announced.  John  Bates  gave  vent  to  a  laugh, 
half  amused,  half  scornful,  wholly  foolish. 

"  Yes,  Queen  of  Youth  an*  Beauty,  at  ten  cents 
a  vote !  "  continued  old  man  Golcher.  "  It  don't 
make  no  difference  whether  she's  lop-sided  an* 
freckle-faced  an'  pigeon-toed  an'  thin  as  a  rail, 
she's  Queen  of  Love  and  Beauty  all  right,  if  she's 
got  fool  friends  enough,  an*  her  dad  can  deliver 
the  votes,  at  ten  cents  per.  Say,  honest — do  you 
expect  old  Bob  Almeric  thinks  he's  got  the  '  Drag ' 
cinched  any  tighter  because  he  dug  up  a  thousand 
dollars  to  call  himself  the  queen's  pa  ?  " 

"  Well,  you  know,  Bill,"  said  Bates,  with  an  air 
that  showed  where  he  stood,  politically,  "the 
'  Drag '  has  got  to  win ! "  f 

"  They'd  do  a  good  sight  better  winnin*  a  few 
councilmen  than  a  Queen  of  Hate  an*  Homeliness 
in  a  pink  silk  petticoat,"  said  the  old  man.  "  Not 
sayin'  but  that  Dolly  Almeric  is  as  bad  as  that,  if 
she  is  kind  of  swelled  up  since  she  went  to  Stan- 
fords.  But  there  YOU  are  again ;  she  ain't  in  the 
[6] 


PROLOGUE 

runnin*  with  that  Shea   girl,  only  old  Shea  is  a 
blacksmith  and  Bob  Almeric  is  county  boss." 

Mr.  Bates  had  fastened  his  check-rein,  and  he 
gathered  the  lines  as  he  said, 

"  Well,  Bill,  too  bad  you  ain't  a-goin'  to  see  the 
show.  They  say  it's  goin'  to  beat  anythin*  they 
ever  had  in  California  this  time ;  the  Sacramento 
street-fair,  water-carnival  at  Santa  Cruz,  an'  the 
flower-festival  at  Los  Angeles,  even." 

"  No,"  the  old  man  replied,  "  I'll  not  be  amongst 
them  present.  I  hope  you'll  enjoy  yourself,  John ; 
be  careful  of  bunco-men  an*  don't  forget  you're  a 
father !  I  guess  I'll  have  pretty  near  as  good  a 
time  as  you  do." 

The  girls  giggled  again,  and  Mr.  Bates  drove 
on.  Old  man  Golcher  quietly  resumed  his  paper, 
but  not  for  long.  The  vehicles  were  coming ;  al 
most  in  procession,  now ;  some  stopped  for  water, 
some  exchanged  greetings  and  went  on.  AH  were 
trimmed  with  flowers  and  loaded  with  gorgeous 
clothes,  all  bore  a  festival  aspect.  Here  was  a 
crazy  old  phaeton,  bearing  a  Spanish  family 
arrayed  in  violent  reds  and  greens  and  yellows. 
Here  was  a  smart  trap,  its  wheels  trimmed,  rim 
and  spoke,  with  bright  geraniums,  manned  by  a  tall, 
[7] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ISYL 
well-dressed  youth  with  a  girl  in  a  correct  tailor 
gown.  Here  came  an  enormous  carryall  at  break 
neck  speed,  spilling  over  with  fresh-faced  boys, 
who  shook  bunting  at  old  man  Golcher  and  barked 
the  Stanford  University  yell  as  they  passed ;  work 
ing-students  these,  off  to  San  Jose  for  a  holiday. 

Last  of  all  came  an  open  omnibus,  filled  to  the 
steps  with  young  men  in  white  duck  trousers,  yel 
low  coats,  red  sashes  and  straw  hats  with  elabo 
rate  striped  bands.  Beside  the  driver  was  piled  a 
bale  of  Japanese  umbrellas,  and  the  rails  of  the 
coach  bore  this  gaudy  legend : 

"  Sutter  Commandery,  No.  47 

Knights  of  the  Golden  Gate 

Los  Gatos  " 

When  this  equipage  bore  down  on  him,  old 
man  Golcher  tarried  no  longer,  but  hastily  got 
behind  the  bar  and  prepared  for  business.  It  came 
with  a  rush.  Fourteen  thirsty  Knights  shoved  and 
jostled  and  joked  and  fought  for  the  privilege  of 
paying  for  the  refreshment,  with  flamboyant  Cali- 
fornian  good-nature. 

"  I  suppose,"  said  the  old  landlord,  when  the 
glasses  were  all  filled  and  he  himself  stood,  fur- 
[8] 


PROLOGUE 

nished  with  a  pony  of  whisky  "  on  the  crowd,** 
"  I  suppose  you  boys  are  going  to  play  particular 
Hades  at  the  coronation  to-night." 

"  Coronation,  nit !  "  said  he  who  had  succeeded 
in  paying  for  the  drinks,  "  the  procession  goes  for 
us,  but  no  coronation  in  ours,  is  there,  boys  ?  '* 

"  Not  on  your  life !  '*  they  assented,  and  their 
spokesman  added  in  explanation,  "  not  after  the 
way  they  threw  down  Isyl  Shea ! " 

"Which  I  take  it,"  said  Golcher,  "you re  a  bit 
sore." 

"Well,  Bob  Almeric  will  be  sorer  when  he 
counts  the  Los  Gatos  vote  next  year,  if  he  did  try 
to  hedge  by  making  Isyl  Shea  Maid  of  Honour. 
Well,  boys,  here's  to  our  candidate,  the  prettiest 
girl  in  Santa  Clara  county,  defeated  but  not  dis 
graced,  by  ginger ! " 

The  place  emptied  and  the  chariot  of  the 
Knights  of  the  Golden  Gate  tore  away  for  San 
Jose.  The  sun  dropped  low  and  lower.  Old 
man  Golcher  watered  and  fed  the  stock,  then  built 
a  fire  in  the  kitchen  range  and  set  a  thin  beefsteak 
frying  in  water.  He  laid  the  table  for  one  in  the 
kitchen,  disdaining  the  white  plastered  dining-room 
of  his  little  inn.  There  he  ate,  looking  out  across 
[9] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ISYL 
the  orchards  to  the  lights  of  the  city  of  San  Jose, 
just  beginning  to  twinkle  in  the  dusk ;  and  as  he 
looked,  he  shook  his  head  as  one  who  ponders 
something  quite  beyond  his  understanding. 

The  night  fell  darker.  Then  a  blaze  of  red 
fire  glowed  between  the  electric  lights;  a  rocket 
mounted  and  ran  its  stately  course  skyward.  He 
fancied  he  could  almost  hear  the  distant  sound  of 
cheering  and  the  poumping  of  brass  bands.  After 
a  final  examination  of  his  stock,  the  old  man  pulled 
down  the  shutters  and  began  to  prepare  for  bed. 

Just  then,  a  wheel  scraped  on  the  bit  of  curbing 
outside  the  house.  In  no  mood  for  patrons,  now, 
Golcher  kept  quiet,  listening  for  the  knocking  on 
the  door  to  cease.  Instead,  it  grew  momentarily 
more  violent;  and  then  he  heard  an  easy,  impu 
dent  voice  saying, 

"  Darned  if  I  don't  believe  he  went  to  the  Fiesta 
after  all !  Well,  we'll  have  to  annex  the  house 
and  lot!" 

"  Not  my  house,  you  won't ! "  shouted  the  pro 
prietor,  through  the  door,  betraying  himself  by  his 
sudden  rage. 

"  Hello !     I  thought  we  could  make  you  loosen 
up,"  said  the  voice,  as  the  old  man  opened  the  door. 
[10] 


PROLOGUE 

Golcher  turned  the  reflector  of  his  coal-oil  lamp 
upon  the  visitor,  and  saw  a  large,  easily  built  lad 
of  perhaps  twenty-four  years.  From  under  his  cap 
a  shock  of  warm,  Irish  hair  struggled  toward  the 
light.  At  first  sight  you  realised  that  he  was 
homely,  and  at  second  sight  you  were  glad  of  it. 
His  chin  was  aggressive,  his  nose  impudent  and  his 
eyes  alert  and  merry. 

"To  proceed  to  business,"  he  began;  "can 
you  put  me  onto  the  course  trod  this  evening  by 
the  fairy  feet  of  Mrs.  Golcher?  I  take  it  that 
she's  not  at  home,  and  that  you  represent  the  fam- 
ily." 

"Oh,  certainly,  anything  you  want,  of  course! 
Bless  you,  my  child,  take  my  wife,  take  the  house, 
take  the  cow,  take  the  prune  orchard,  but  kindly 
leave  me  the  old  apple-tree  over  in  the  corner,  be 
cause  my  father  planted  it,". said  Golcher,  sarcasm 
seeming  to  him  to  be  the  only  possible  defence. 
"  But  if  it  ain't  too  much  trouble,  would  you  please 
let  me  in  on  who  it  is  that's  succeedin'  me  in  the 
affections  of  Bee  Golcher  ?  " 

"  Certainly,"  said  the  red-haired  lad ;  "  I  am  pro 
prietor,  general  manager  and  advance  agent  of  the 
worst-managed  ranch  between  San  Jose  and  Camp- 

mi 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ISYL 
bell's,  and  the  proud  author  of  a  forthcoming  work 
cm  '  How  to  Fail  in  Prune  Farming/  " 

"From  the  description,"  said  old  Golcher, 
"  that  would  be  the  Parrish  place." 

"Ting,  ting,  bull's-eye !"  said  the  stranger  in 
assent. 

"  The  old  woman's  at  her  Aunt  Helen's,  an'  if 
you  can  get  her,  it's  more'n  I  can  do,"  said  Gol 
cher. 

The  lad  opened  the  door,  and  called  out  to  a 
city  hack  which  was  standing  in  front  of  the  road- 
house.  "Mrs.  Winston's — straight  ahead  for  a 
half  a  mile,  third  gate  to  the  left!"  he  said. 
"  Tell  Mrs.  Golcher  that  the  cow's  got  the  colic. 
Tell  her  Bill  Golcher's  been  elected  to  the 
Assembly,  and  wants  to  begin  rejoicing.  Tell 
her  anything.  I  want  her,  and  Golcher  wants 
her;  he  don't  know  it  yet,  but  he  will  in  a 
minute ! " 

Stifling  with  indignant  astonishment,  Golcher 
reached  for  a  bung-starter.  The  young  man  put 
his  hand  in  his  pocket,  and  drew  out  a  heap  of 
gold  pieces.  One  by  one,  he  strung  them  out  on 
the  bar  until  he  had  counted  five  gleaming  eagles, 
saying : 

[12] 


PROLOGUE 

"  Certain  things  being  likely  to  happen  to-night, 
that  is  for  the  hire  of  this  house  till  noon  to-mor 
row."  He  laid  down  another.  "That  is  for 
Mrs.  Golcher."  Another.  "That  is  for  the 
good-will  of  the  concern." 

"  This  is  a  respectable  house "  old  Golcher 

began. 

"  This  deal  is  straight  and  perpindicular  in  every 
respect.  It's  on  the  double  dead  level  and  so 
strictly  correct  that  we've  sent  for  a  chaperone. 
That's  why  I  despatched  the  Courier  of  the  Czar 
for  Mrs.  G.  Chaperones  are  scarce  in  Fiesta 
times,  but  we  have  gone  to  this  expense  to  have 
the  best  in  the  county.  She's  known  to  be  cop 
per  sheathed,  ninety-proof  and  comes  to  us  high 
ly  recommended  by  the  elite  of  Golcherville. 
Prithee,  am  I  singing  on  the  key?  Do  you  find 
my  pipe  upside-down  ?  Are  you  with  us  or 
forninst  us?  Speak,  or  for  ever  after  hold  your 
peace." 

"  I  guess  you  can  count  me  in,"  said  Golcher,  as 
he  swept  the  gold  into  the  cash  drawer. 

"Much  obliged,"  said  the  youth,  "you're  all 
right,  if  you  do  have  fits." 

"I  guess  I  can  afford  to  set  'em  up,  on  the 
[13] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ISYL 
strength  of  that,*'  said  Golcher,  as  he  pushed  a 
large  bottle  across  the  counter.     "Have  one  on 
the  house.'*     He  set  out  two  glasses. 

"Well,"  said  the  newcomer,  "here's  to  Mrs. 
William  Q.  Golcher.  She's  the  Pearl  of  Pekin 
and  the  roseate  five-pointed  star  of  the  sixty-fifth 
magnitude.  Long  may  she  wave !  And  it  is  my 
glorious  hope  that  when  she  dawns  on  the  horizon 
of  T.  Parrish,  Esq.,  she'll  prove  to  be  as  good  a 
fellow  as  you  are ! " 

"Well,  I  dunno.  Mis'  Golcher's  sometimes 
considered  an  acquired  taste.  She  was  to  me, 
anyway.  It  takes  time  to  understand  her.  But 

she*s  the  kind  that  grows  on  you,  if  you  know  what 

I»» 
mean. 

"  I  do  not,  in  very  truth,"  said  the  lad.  "  But  it 
sounds  horrible.  What  d*you  mean  ?  Say,  I  hope 
she  won't  veto  this  treaty.  What  you  say  goes, 
don't  it?" 

"  No,  sir ! "  said  Golcher,  "  it  don't  go  an  eighth 
of  an  inch  if  the  old  lady  don't  like  the  smell  of  it ! 
I  was  twelve  years  signin'  contracts  for  myself  and 
repudiatin'  'em  for  Mrs.  Golcher,  before  I  learned 
better.  You  bought  the  house,  young  man,  but 
you  ain't  bought  Mrs.  Golcher.  I  ain't  had  my 
[14] 


PROLOGUE 

own  way  since  I  married  her,  an'  in  point  of  fact, 
for  about  six  months  before  that." 

"You've  got  a  manager,  eh?  How  did  you 
happen  to  marry  her,  anyway?  Tell  me  about  it. 
If  you  can  cook  up  a  sparkling  storiette  to  enliven 
the  time  till  the  lady  gets  here  to  stop  the  fun,  I 
don't  mind  hearing  about  it." 

"  How  did  I  happen  to  marry  her  ?  I  didn't, 
by  crickety!  She  married  me!  I  ain't  a-kickin', 
young  feller,  you  want  to  understand  that  right  at 
the  start.  I  reckon  I'd  have  died  the  fool  I  was 
born,  if  she  hadn't  come  along  to  train  me.  The 
old  lady  is  a  class  by  herself,  that's  all.  She's  got 
the  qualities  of  mind  and  will  that  made  Napoleon 
the  biggest  chess  champion  with  live  pawns  that 
ever  come  over  the  pike.  If  you  want  to  hear 
about  it,  well  and  good.  I'll  tell  it.  It  does  her 
credit.  She's  what  the  chess  experts  call  a  strat- 
e-gi-cian ;  I  guess  that's  right.  Pull  up  a  chair  and 
take  a  cigar — you  don't  need  to  smell  of  it  too 
hard — it'll  burn,  all  right." 

With  his  feet  on  the  table,  and  one  hand  loving 
ly  nursing  his  corn-cob  pipe,  he  then  began 


[15] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ISYL 

Old  Man  Colchers  Story 

THE  THREE-MILE  LIMIT 

Or,  Love  Strategic 

1HAD  a  hound  pup  once  that  would  eat  any 
thing  in  the  world  if  he  only  got  the  idea 
that  you  was  takin*  it  away  from  him.  Saw 
dust  or  grass  or  chunks  of  coal,  it  made  no  differ 
ence  to  the  pup.  Just  hold  it  out,  an'  make  like 
you  was  goin'  to  haul  it  back  again,  an'  he'd  grab 
it  an'  sink  it  so  quick  he  never  knew  how  it  tasted. 
He  only  wanted  it  because  he  couldn't  get  it. 

Now,  when  I  was  younger,  they  was  points  of 
resemblance  between  me  an'  that  pup.  That's  the 
only  excuse  I  could  ever  cook  up  for  my  fallin'  in 
love  with  Matie  Kenney. 

You  see,  old  man  Kenney  had  a  line  of  fence 
across  our  private  road.  Twice  a  year  my  pa  used 
to  go  out  with  a  shot-gun  and  take  pot  shots  at  old 
Kenney,  while  our  hired  man  sawed  down  the 
fence-posts.  An'  twice  a  year,  Kenney  would 
swear  out  a  warrant  for  pa.  It  come  as  reg'lar  as 
Christmas  an'  Fourth  of  July.  Snipin'  Kenneys  was 
the  favourite  sport  of  my  childhood's  happy  hours. 

Seein'  that  buckshot  is  penetratin'  an'  sometimes 
[16] 


PROLOGUE 

permanent  in  its  effects,  I  never  met  Matie  Kenney 
till  I  was  nineteen,  when  one  July  day,  havin*  noth- 
in'  particular  to  do,  I  went  up  to  take  a  look  at  the 
mines  at  Almaden.  She  blew  into  the  superintend 
ent's  office  with  another  girl  while  I  was  hearin' 
how  amalgam  works. 

"Miss  Willmarth,  Mr.  Golcher,"  he  says,  an' 
then,  "  Miss  Kenney,  Mr.  Golcher/' 

Well,  sir,  when  he  said  Kenney,  I  was  for  dodg- 
in'  behind  the  desk  an'  drawin'  quick,  by  instinct, 
but  by  the  time  he  had  finished  sayin'  Golcher,  I 
was  laid  out  cold.  She  caught  my  game  complete. 
I  approved  of  her  most  cordial.  I  s'pose  it  was 
the  hound  pup  in  me,  for  she  was  a  doll  if  they 
ever  was  one. 

She  was  little,  an'  kind  of  chunky  an'  huggy, 
with  a  pink  face  an'  great  big  black  eyes,  all  smeary 
dark  around  the  edges. 

Now  I  reckon  that  when  what  the  lady  who  gives 
advice  about  love  in  the  newpapers  calls  a  normal 
young  man  sees  what  she'd  call  a  normal  young 
woman,  the  first  crack  out  of  the  box  he  begins  to 
wonder  what  it  would  be  like  to  own  her.  Any 
way,  that's  the  way  it  hit  me,  all  of  a  heap ;  an'  my 
second  idea  was  that  I  couldn't  have  her,  not  with- 
[17] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ISYL 
out  a  blamed  embarrassin*  funeral.     An'  so  that's 
what  nailed  me  cold  to  the  proposition  that  I  had 
to  have  her. 

Well,  the  Willmarth  girl  I  knew  then,  some, 
havin'  took  her  to  dances  an*  so  on.  She  got  in, 
an'  worked  her  converser  heavy  to  make  things 
pleasant,  but,  all  the  same,  it  was  Matie  Kenney  I 
walked  alongside  of,  when  we  left  the  office  to  look 
at  the  quicksilver  tanks.  Before  we  got  through 
doin'  the  sights,  Matie  had  begun  to  train  them 
smeary  black  eyes  of  hers  on  me,  as  if  I  was  the 
whole  works,  an'  I  had  spoiled  the  only  five-dollar 
gold  piece  I  had  on  me,  dippin'  it  into  the  quick 
silver  to  show  her  how  the  amalgam  stuck  on.  It 
took  me  two  nights  roastin*  that  five  over  a  coal-oil 
lamp  before  I  got  it  off,  but  I  would  have  risked  a 
twenty. 

When  we  got  to  her  buggy  to  go  home,  I  let 
her  know  that  I  was  willin'  to  enjoy  more  of  her 
society.  Seems  like  they  was  a  little  speck  of 
hound  pup  in  her,  too,  for  she  said, 

"  I  generally  visit  Bee  Willmarth  Sunday  nights." 
Then  I  predicted  that  Bill  Golcher  wasn't  goin*  to 
attend  evenin'  services  next  Sunday,  very  heavy.' 
You  bet  I  didn't,  either. 

[18] 


PROLOGUE 

Bee  Willmarth  fixed  it  all  up.  She  found  busi 
ness  for  her  pa,  an'  an  engagement  for  her  ma,  an* 
left  us  alone  on  the  piazza  with  nothin'  but  the  cat 
an'  a  hammock.  That  was  Bee's  first  move  on  the 
chess-board  of  love,  an*  I'll  bet  that  even  then  she 
could  have  announced  mate  in  twenty-seven  moves, 
like  this  here  Lasker.  But  Lord !  I  didn't  suspect 
nothin'.  Why  should  I  ?  After  Matie  was  gone, 
I  was  that  grateful  that  I  kissed  Bee  Willmarth, 
when  I  wouldn't  have  dared  to  try  the  Kenney  girl. 
Of  course  I  didn't  mean  nothin'  an'  I  was  miles 
away  from  suspectin'  how  much  it  meant  to  Bee. 

It  was  the  next  Sunday,  and  the  Tuesday  after 
that,  and  then  the  Sunday  followin'  an'  then  it  come 
in  bunches.  I  had  it  pretty  bad,  an'  so  did  Matie, 
an'  for  that  matter,  Bee,  too.  Over  at  home,  pa 
growled  all  the  time  because  I  was  puttin'  in  so 
much  time  runnin'  round  with  the  boys,  as  he 
thought,  an'  over  to  the  Kenney  ranch,  the  old 
man  just  thought  Matie  was  studyin'  French  with 
Bee. 

Well,  one  day  Bee  says  to  me,  "  The  folks  will 

all  be  away  to-morrow;  don't  you  want  to  come 

over,  an'  you  an*  Matie  an'  me  will  get  supper  ?  " 

It  sounded  so  nice  an'  homelike  with  Matie  an'  me 

[19] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ISYL 

in  the  kitchen  together,  that  I  shivered.  I  was 
lookin*  at  it  like  a  kitchen  built  for  two,  Matie  an* 
me,  of  course,  with  Bee  representin'  the  hired  girl. 

If  I  was  teetotally  gone  on  that  Kenney  girl  be 
fore,  I  don't  know  how  to  picture  the  way  I  felt 
when  I  see  her  in  a  little  pink  calico  apron  wrest- 
lin'  with  the  cook-stove,  while  Bee  tried  to  show 
her  how.  I  just  sat  an'  pretended  to  be  peelin'  po- 
taters,  but  all  the  time  I  was  watchin'  Matie.  I 
ain't  sayin'  she  was  so  dog-gone  much  on  results, 
though.  When  she  started  to  beat  up  some  eggs, 
she  sploshed  'em  all  over  her  pink  apron,  which 
would  have  looked  kind  of  messy  to  anybody  but 
a  feller  as  luny  as  I  was.  The  omelette  she  made 
of  'em  was  an  insult  to  a  man's  stomach,  but  I 
downed  it  as  well  as  I  could.  An'  the  difference 
between  her  coffee  an'  the  stuff  Bee  used  to  turn 
out  of  the  pot  was  certainly  wide  an'  far-reachin'. 

On  the  contrariwise,  Bee's  biscuits  was  a  dream, 
an'  in  twenty  minutes  by  the  clock  she  produced  an 
article  of  fancy  marble  cake  that  just  naturally  got 
in  close  to  where  a  man  lives,  an'  didn't  make  no 
fuss  there,  neither.  So,  by-an'-by  ('I  got  in  an'  jol 
lied  Bee's  cake  an*  biscuits  a  litife,  Just  to  do  the 
right  thing  by  our  accommodatin'  Hostess,  who  was 
[20] 


PROLOGUE 

certainly  doin'  her  share  to  give  us  a  good  time.  I 
omitted  to  speak  of  the  omelette.  It  touched  Marie 
off  like  a  blast  of  giant  powder,  an*  she  got  up  an* 
left  the  room,  mad.  I  jumped  up  to  follow  her,  an' 
she  slammed  the  door.  Bee  went  out  an*  brought 
her  back  after  she'd  done  something  or  other  to  her 
eyes,  but  Marie  wasn't  decent  to  me  for  the  rest  of 
the  evenin',  an'  she  didn't  even  let  me  take  her 
down  to  the  fence,  the  way  she  generally  did. 

When  she  was  gone,  Bee  says  to  me,  "  Promise 
me  you'll  forgive  Marie,  Will.  She  does  the  best 
she  can  to  control  her  temper,  an'  you  know  cookin' 
sort  of  gets  on  her  nerves.  She  ain't  used  to  it." 

"  She's  got  the  prettiest  little  patch  of  temper  I 
ever  saw,"  I  said,  an'  so  she  had.  About  all  the 
Kenney  blood  that  was  in  her  showed  up  for  the 
month  after  that.  I  didn't  care.  She  had  me 
goin',  an'  a  boy  of  twenty  can  be  so  big  a  fool 
he  can't  see  the  walls  when  he's  inside  of  the 
house. 

Bee  kept  fixin'  up  things  so  we  could  be  together, 
but  nothin'  seemed  to  suit  Matie  for  a  cent.  She 
made  fun  of  my  neckties,  an'  then  Bee  would  pick 
one  of  the  kind  woman-folks  think  are  right,  an* 
wear  it  a  day,  an*  then  offer  to  swap  hers  for  mine. 
[21] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ISYL 
I  never  tumbled,  I  thought  she  liked  to  have  it. 
Marie's  one  fault  was  that  she  had  rather  big  feet, 
while  Bee's  was  number  2A  or  somethin'  like  that. 
I  suppose  Bee  worked  for  two  weeks  in  the  way 
only  a  woman  knows  how,  before  she  got  me  to 
notice  the  difference  between  'em.  An'  so  it 
went,  she  surroundin'  me  with  her  pawns  an* 
bishops  an'  bringin'  her  rooks  to  bear  doubled  for 
the  end-game,  an'  me  thinkin',  an*  Marie  thinkin* 
too,  that  we  was  doin*  great  work.  Lord,  it  was 
Foreordination  against  Freewill  all  over  again !  It 
was  Paul  Morphy  against  the  bummest  checker- 
player  in  the  corner  grocery. 

Well,  about  that  time  old  Kenney  connected 
with  the  fact  that  somethin'  more  than  a  desire  for 
knowledge  of  French  verbs  was  afflictin'  Marie 
over  to  the  Willmarth  place.  He  investigated,  an* 
found  me  with  Marie's  head  restin'  calm  an*  unsus- 
pectin*  upon  my  manly  shoulder  by  the  golden 
moonlight.  When  Marie  got  home  she  hit  trouble 
good  an*  plenty. 

Next   day,  while  I  was    stackin*  over   in  the 

North  lot,  a  half-breed  Spanish  boy  passed  me  a 

note,  an*  I  saw  that  they  had  to  be  somethin'  doin* 

pretty  pronto,  before  old  Kenney  got  after  me  with 

[22] 


PROLOGUE 

a  gun.  So  I  sent  back  word  by  the  same  Dago 
route,  sayin'  that  now  was  the  appointed  time  to 
bust  over  the  line  an'  get  married. 

She  didn't  lose  no  time,  I  tell  you.  She  wrote 
back,  "  Have  a  rig  at  the  fence  at  six,  to-morrow 
morning." 

I  had  a  hundred  an'  fifty  dollars  tucked  away  in 
a  cigar-box,  an'  I  got  it.  Matie  had  let  Bee  in  on 
the  game,  to  go  along  as  a  witness,  an  Bee  was 
ready  with  me  at  six  when  I  drove  up  to  the 
Kenney  fence.  We  took  the  first  train  out  of  San 
Jose  for  the  city. 

As  luck  would  have  it,  old  man  Kenney  come 
over  to  the  house  with  a  shot-gun  to  reason  with 
me,  before  the  trail  was  cold.  Pa  met  him,  an* 
they  got  a  mutual  drop  on  each  other,  which  led  to 
explanations.  Which  one  of  'em  was  maddest,  I 
have  no  idea,  but  the  result  was  that  for  the  first 
time  in  their  lives,  the  Kenneys  an'  the  Golchers 
come  to  a  friendly  understanding. 

An*  so,  when  I  blew  into  the  marriage-licence 
office  at  the  City  Hall  in  San  Francisco,  ready  to 
swear  my  life  away  that  we  was  both  over  twenty- 
one,  the  clerk  give  me  a  look-over,  an'  called  me 
into  his  room.  He  showed  me  a  telegram  that 
[23] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ISYL 
had  us  described  perfect,  signed  by  pa  an*  old 
Kenney,  an*  it  said  hold  us  both  for  abduction. 

"  See  here,"  says  the  licence  man,  rather  friendly, 
"  I  ain't  goin'  to  have  you  pulled,  for  my  business 
an'  my  pleasure  is  to  promote  matrimony,  an'  not 
to  discourage  it.  But  I  can't  issue  you  a  licence, 
because  you're  both  under  age." 

"What'llldo?"  I  asked  him. 

"The  reg'lar  ordinary,  commonplace  way  to 
beat  this  combination  in  San  Francisco,"  he  says, 
"is  to  hire  a  tug  an*  get  married  by  the  captain  on 
the  high  seas.  As  soon  as  you're  three  miles  off 
shore  you  don't  need  no  licence.  It'll  cost  you  fifty 
for  the  tug,  an*  twenty  to  square  the  captain,  an*  I 
give  you  my  blessin'." 

Well,  we  chased  down  to  the  water-front  and  I 
dickered  with  the  skipper  of  a  little  pup  tug,  an* 
handed  my  blushin*  bride  an*  my  unblushin'  wit 
ness  aboard,  an*  the  voyage  begun  like  a  picnic, 
with  everybody  smilin*  an'  joshin'  in  high  spirits. 

When  we  passed  Alcatraz,  Matie  was  lookin* 
as  pretty  as  a  peach,  an'  I  was  hungry  to  eat  her. 
When  we  passed  the  Fort,  she  proposed  that  we 
keep  right  on  to  Honolulu  an'  spend  our  honey 
moon  there.  But  in  about  three  minutes. after  that 
[24] 


PROLOGUE 

we  started  to  cross  the  bar.  Ever  tried  it  in  a 
forty-foot  tug  with  a  south-west  breeze  fightin'  a 
racin'  ebb  tide?  Well,  don't  unless  you're  about 
as  sure  of  your  inwards  as  Bee  Willmarth  was. 
They  was  a  dirty  chop  that  made  the  tug  roll  like 
a  log,  an*  I  noticed  Matie  wan't  talkin'  so  much  as 
she  had  been,  in  the  Gate.  She  seemed  to  be 
losin'  interest  in  the  conversation,  an'  she  didn't  say 
no  more  about  goin'  to  Honolulu. 

Bee  was  watchin*  her,  an'  now  she  chirked  up 
considerable,  Bee  did,  an'  she  proposed  that  we  go 
out  to  the  bow  of  the  boat  an'  get  the  spray  an' 
more  of  the  jolly  pitchin'.  Matie  just  give  her  one 
look  like  she'd  proposed  to  eat  raw  dough. 

You  can  guess  what  was  happenin'.  I  wan't  so 
blamed  sure  of  myself,  to  tell  the  truth,  but  I  kept 
my  face  to  the  wind,  and  fought  against  it.  Matie's 
face  begun  to  grow  green,  an'  the  freckles  loomed 
up  in  a  way  that  was  shockin'  to  see.  Her  hair 
was  in  strings  down  over  her  ears.  She  begun  to 
cry,  an'  when  she  wiped  her  eyes,  all  that  pretty 
smeary  black  I  had  admired  so  much  come  off  on 
her  handkerchief.  But  Bee  was  as  pink  an'  sassy 
as  a  carnation,  walkin*  up  an'  down  joshin'  the 
captain  an'  tryin'  to  hold  the  wheel  in  the  pilot- 
[25] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  1SYL 
house.  I  don't  believe  she  ever  looked  so  pretty 
before  nor  since  as  she  did  then,  for  her  hair  was 
curlin'  into  little  tight  locks  all  over  her  head,  an' 
she  took  off  her  hat  so  we'd  be  sure  to  see  it,  too. 
Bee  had  captured  her  first  rook,  and  begun  to  close 
in  on  her  bishop's  diagonal. 

After  awhile  there  come  a  fearful  lurch,  an* 
Matie  caved  in.  I  picked  her  up  an*  carried  her 
into  the  cabin,  she  seemin'  to  prefer  that  smelly 
place  to  the  air  outside,  an'  I  fixed  her  on  a  lounge, 
with  a  pillow. 

"What's  the  matter,  dear,"  I  said,  "are  you 
seasick  ?  " 

I  must  have  smiled,  I  s'pose,  as  I  spoke,  for  she 
got  pretty  mad.  "  No ! "  she  says,  "  I've  got  a 
headache,  that's  all." 

"Perhaps  you're  a  little  faint  an'  hungry,"  I 
says.  "  Couldn't  I  bring  you  a  ham  sandwich  or 
somethin'  ?  " 

"  Will  Golcher,"  she  says,  "  if  you  dare  mention 
anything  to  eat  to  me ! " 

"Why,  Matie,"  I  says,  "I  only  thought  you 
might  be  hungry." 

"You  didn't!"  she  flared  out,  "you  was  only 
makin'  fun  of  me,  you  an*  Bee,  too." 
[26] 


PROLOGUE 

"  Oh,  pshaw,"  I  says,  tryin'  to  get  her  out  of  her 
tantrum,  "  hadn't  you  better  come  out  on  deck  an' 
get  some  fresh  air?" 

"  You  only  want  to  go  out  so  you  can  flirt  with 
that  Bee  Willmarth,"  she  says.  "  Go  on  out,  if  you 
want  to ;  you  don't  have  to  stay  here.  I  hate  you ! 
I'm  sorry  I  ever  said  I'd  marry  you ! " 

By  this  time  I'd  begun  to  get  mad  myself,  and  I 
says,  "Well,  by  ginger,  you  don't  have  to,  if  you 
don't  want  to ! " 

"  You  bet  I  don't ! "  she  says,  "  an*  I  won't,  nei 
ther,  see  if  I  do !  You  just  tell  the  captain  to  turn 
round  and  go  back  to  the  city.  I'm  all  through  with 
you,  WillGolcher!" 

I  went  out  to  where  Bee  was  standin'  at  the 
wheel  in  the  pilot-house,  with  the  captain  showin' 
her  how,  an'  I  called  her  aside. 

"  I  guess  they  ain't  goin*  to  be  no  weddin'  on  this 
tug,"  I  says.  "Matie's  mad,  an'  we  better  turn 
round  an'  go  home." 

She  looked  kind  of  funny  at  me.  Then  she  says, 
"  Oh,  perhaps  she'll  change  her  mind.  Let's  keep 
on  out  to  the  three-mile  limit,  anyways.  Matie 
won't  mind,  if  she  don't  know  which  way  we're 
steerin,'  and  they  say  seasickness  is  good  for  peo- 
[27] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ISYL 
pie."    Say,  she  begun  to  look  at  me  pretty  hard  by 
that  time.    I  expect  I  sort  of  felt  it  before  I  saw 
what  was  up.      Her  knights  were  gettin*  pretty 
near  the  "  objective  plane." 

We  went  up  forward  and  sat  in  the  bow,  for  I 
was  beginnin'  to  feel  fine.  Bee  just  touched  my 
hand  once  or  twice.  I  thought  it  was  accidental  at 
first,  so  I  investigated.  She  wan't  the  kind  of  girl 
that  allows  accidents  to  happen.  Finally  I  had  my 
arm  round  her  waist  and  she  was  leanin'  up  to  me. 
I  didn't  care  how  far  out  we  went  to  sea.  She 
had  to  take  just  one  pawn  to  win. 

Pretty  soon  the  captain  yelled  out,  "Pile  out 
there,  now ;  here  we  are,  all  right,  three  miles  off 
shore !  Hurry  up !  I  have  a  date  for  this  tug  at 
the  Lombard  Street  wharf  at  four,  so  step  lively ! " 

"What'llwedo?"IaskedBee. 

"  I  dunno,"  she  said,  very  slow,  an'  then,  seein*  I 
wasn't  suggestin'  anything,  she  said,  "  I'll  go  into  the 
cabin  an'  see  how  Matie  feels  about  it."  So  she 
went  back. 

I  was  in  front  of  the  pilot-house  then.    Well,  sir, 

I  don't  know  to  this  day  what  happened,  whether 

she  did  go  in  to  see  Matie,  or  only  pretended  to,  or 

what  she  said  if  she  did  go  in.     I  never  dared  to 

[28] 


PROLOGUE 

ask,  an'  anyway,  I  generally  prefer  to  let  these 
women-scraps  alone  an*  dodge  the  hammers.  But 
Bee  come  back  an'  she  held  out  both  of  her  hands 
to  me,  an*  looked  up  at  me,  an'  she  says,  as  near  as 
I  can  recollect, 

"  I  don't  believes  she  wants  to  marry  you,  Will 
iam.  Ain't  she  a  fool  ?  "  Then  she  begun  to  cry. 

Then  I  tumbled,  an'  it  was  checkmate  for  her. 
I  caught  her  up  in  my  arms,  an'  I  says,  kissin'  her, 
"  Shall  you  an'  me  do  it  then  ?  "  An'  she  says,  "  Of 
course,  silly!" 

I  went  back  and  called  through  the  door,  "  I'm 
goin'  to  marry  Bee,  Matie.  Have  you  got  any  ob- 

•  •  «v  »» 

jections  ? 

She  says,  "Go  on  an'  marry  her,  if  you  want 
to,  the  sly  old  thing.  I  hate  the  both  of  you,  an'  the 
worst  thing  I  hope  for  her  is  to  have  you  for  a  hus 
band! 

So  we  done  the  act.  The  captain  never  said  a 
word  about  my  changin*  girls  at  the  last  minute, 
but  he  grinned  some.  It  was  all  the  same  to  him  so 
long  as  he  got  his  twenty,  I  expect. 

Well,  sir,  when  I  come  to  my  senses,  I  realised 
that  Bee  had  saved  my  life,  an*  I  ain't  one  to  criti 
cise  methods  of  feminine  warfare  with  my  pre- 
[29] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ISYL 
server.  But  Bee  was  a  chess-player,  all  right. 
Invitin'  me  to  meet  Matie  Kenney  was  her  openin* 
gambit,  an*  from  then  on  she  had  me  cinched,  an'  I 
never  knew  it.  An'  I  thank  God  that  I  married  a 
woman  with  brains  an'  beauty  that's  weather  proof. 
Here  comes  Mrs.  Golcher  now ;  just  in  time ! 


II 
THE    CORONATION 

4J  HOW  La  !Qeale  Norine  disappeared  from  the  castle 
and  the  Lady  Isyl  was  crowned  in  her  stead.  How 
the  queen  sate  in  the  great  hall  in  dolor  and  was  com 
forted  by  a  mysterious  stranger :  The  Tale  of  Love 
Terpsicborean. 

IN  a  large  bare  room  of  the  Agricultural  Pavil 
ion  at  San  Jose,  two  girls  were   sticking  the 
last    scraps    of    court-plaster    to    their   faces, 
finishing  a   prinking  that   to  a  man  would  have 
seemed  shameless.     The  elder  and  the  taller  and 
the   blonder    of   the   two   was    Norine   Almeric, 
Queen-elect  of  the  Fiesta,  gowned  in  low-cut  white 
satin  and  lace,  girdled  with  a  rainbow  of  artificial 
[30] 


THE  CORONATION 

gems,  which  branched  and  fell  to  her  feet.  As 
she  skirmished  round  her  enormous  billowy  train 
and  reached  for  a  long  ermine  cape,  the  other  girl 
ran  to  assist  her. 

Miss  Isyl  Shea,  her  Maid  of  Honour,  was  a  good 
foil  for  the  Queen.  She  was  not  at  all  statuesque, 
but  of  an  entrancingly  domestic  sort  of  blushing 
plumpness,  dark  olive  of  complexion  and  extrava 
gantly  feminine.  She  was  costumed  almost  as 
elaborately  as  the  Queen,  but  in  scarlet  appliqued 
with  silver  cloth. 

"  Isyl,"  said  Miss  Almeric, "  you're  a  perfect  pic 
ture!  You  should  have  been  Queen.  You're  a 
thousand  times  prettier  than  I  ever  longed  to  be.  I 
feel  like  Elizabeth  persecuting  Mary,  Queen  of 
Scots.  Why  didn't  they  elect  you  ?  I  didn't  want 
it.  Heavens,  I  have  had  everything  I  wanted  since 
I  was  old  enough  to  make  funny  faces  at  Daddy ; 
I've  had  my  school-teachers  discharged  just  because 
I  didn't  like  the  way  they  wore  their  hair.  I  only 
agreed  to  this  on  account  of  Daddy's  friends,  they 
made  such  a  point  of  it." 

"  I  didn't  care  either,"  the  other  answered,  but 
something  in  the  steadiness  of  her  mouth  belied  her 
as  she  went  on.  "  Papa  had  set  his  mind  on  it  too, 

[31] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ISYL 

and  he  was  terribly  disappointed.  He  refused  to 
come  to-night.  The  Golden  Gate  boys  aren't 
coming  either.  They  said  the  election  was  un 
fair." 

"Most  likely  it  was,"  Miss  Almeric  assented 
calmly.  "  Daddy's  friends  have  a  way  of  winning 
very  often."  She  smiled  rather  sarcastically. 

The  Maid  of  Honour  partly  opened  the  door 
leading  into  the  corridor  and  peeped  out.  Through 
this  slit  the  buzz  and  rattle  of  the  increasing  au 
dience  in  the  hall  came  to  them  with  the  nearer  noise 
of  talk  and  laughter  down  the  corridor,  where  the 
court,  babbling,  flirting  and  fooling,  was  assembling 
for  the  procession.  A  determined  voice  was  utter 
ing  orders  for  the  formation  of  the  pageant. 

Suddenly,  from  the  other  door  of  the  waiting-room 
came  a  brisk  rap  and  Isyl  turned  to  see  Miss  Alme 
ric  answer  it.  A  small  messenger  boy  in  uniform 
entered,  and,  gazing  in  fascinated  admiration,  handed 
her  an  envelope.  Miss  Almeric  tore  it  open  at 
once  and  glanced  over  it. 

"  Wait  a  minute,  Isyl,"  she  said,  "  I  will  be  ri^ht 
back,"  and  without  further  explanation  she  passed 
through  the  door  and  ran  down  stairs.  The  boy 
followed  her. 

[32] 


THE  CORONATION 

Several  minutes  passed  and  Miss  Almeric  did 
not  return.  Then  the  sound  of  horses'  hoofs  was 
heard  in  the  street  below.  Isyl  ran  to  the  window 
just  in  time  to  catch  a  glimpse  of  a  hack  swiftly  turn 
ing  the  corner  into  the  Alameda.  Then  came  an 
other  knock — this  time  from  the  door  which  she  had 
closed  upon  the  corridor. 

She  opened,  to  find  the  Prime  Minister  ap 
pointed  by  the  Queen.  He  was  wearing,  as  un 
affectedly  as  possible  for  a  man  who  seldom  soars  to 
heights  above  a  black  diagonal  "cutaway"  and 
derby  hat,  a  brilliant  costume  in  which  one  might 
pick  details  from  nearly  every  epoch  since  the  Ren 
aissance.  He  was  primed  with  dignity  and  ac 
complished,  for  the  first  time  officially,  a  wonder 
ful  obeisance,  involving  his  whole  body  above  the 
waist. 

"  The  procession  is  ready  to  start,  your  Majes 
ty  ! "  he  announced  with  his  eyes  on  the  floor.  He 
raised  them  to  find  Isyl's  merry  smile  the  only  other 
living  thing  in  the  room. 

"  Why,  where's  Miss  Almeric  ?  "  he  demanded, 
losing  his  gravity  in  the  surprise  and  disappoint 
ment  of  wasted  endeavour. 

Isyl's  smile  fled,  and  she  puckered  her  brow.  "  I 
[33] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ISYL 
don't  know,"   she  said  anxiously.     "She  just  left 
the  room  a  few  moments  ago,  and  she  ought  to  be 
back.      I  am  a  little  worried  about  it,  to  tell  the 
truth." 

She  went  to  the  door,  opened  it  and  looked  down 
stairs.  The  Prime  Minister,  with  a  nervous  hand 
upon  his  somewhat  mischievous  sword,  descended. 
In  another  minute  he  reappeared  with  staring  eyes. 

"  She  ain't  there,"  he  cried.  "  She  ain't  any 
wheres!  She's  gone!  Well,  this  is  a  fix!  We 
can't  have  the  Coronation  without  the  Queen ! 
What'llwedo?" 

Isyl  giggled  hysterically.  "  We  might  advertise 
for  her,"  she  suggested,  her  sense  of  humour  tri 
umphing  over  the  anxiety. 

"This  thing  is  serious,  by  Jove!"  the  Prime 
Minister  exclaimed.  "There's  a  crowd  outside 
that's  paid  money  to  see  the  Coronation,  and  some 
body's  got  to  be  coronated.  We  can't  wait  a 
minute ! "  He  stood  for  a  moment  in  a  Napoleonic 
attitude,  and  then  sprang  for  the  door. 

"  Call  Kit  Wilkinson ! "  he  cried  to  a  page  out 
side.  "  Hurry  up  now,"  he  added  sharply. 

Mr.  Christopher  Wilkinson  came  on  the  run, 
garbed  in  an  indescribable  outfit  supposed  to  simu- 
[34] 


THE  CORONATION 

late  the  aspect  of  a  Lord  Chamberlain  and  Master 
of  Ceremonies.  An  enormous  brass  chain,  fes 
tooned  from  shoulder  to  shoulder,  kept  him  from 
visibly  bursting  with  importance,  and  a  white  rod  of 
office,  like  a  slim  exclamation  point,  called  attention 
to  his  grandeur.  He  was  flurried  with  the  burden 
of  his  duties  and  furious  at  the  delay.  It  was  the 
Chamberlain  who  had  planned  the  whole  Fiesta 
with  a  pomp  of  ritual  and  ceremony;  this  hitch  in 
the  proceedings  exasperated  him. 

"For  Heaven's  sake,  what's  the  matter?"  he 
inquired :  and  then  as  his  eye  ran  around  the 
room,  "Where's  the  Queen?  " 

The  Prime  Minister  shrugged  his  shoulders ; 
the  Maid  of  Honour  was  uncertain  whether  to 
weep  or  laugh.  "  She  is  gone ! "  the  girl  answered. 

"Gone!"  he  roared,  and  he  looked  at  Isyl,  as  if 
he  suspected  her  of  having  the  missing  Queen  con 
cealed  about  her  person.  Then  his  surprise  dis 
solved  in  a  melodramatic  caution.  He  hastily 
closed  the  door  and  locked  it. 

"Now,  what  do  you  mean?     Tell  me  what  is 
all  this  foolishness!     Hush,  please,  if  there's  any 
thing' wrong,  we  don't  want  the  crowd  to  know  it 
— least  of  all  the  newspaper  people." 
[35] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ISYL 

The  tale  was  retold  in  whispers,  while  an  impa 
tient  tumult  grew  louder  outside.  The  Chamber 
lain  was  distraught  with  disappointment,  and  all 
three  members  of  the  court  stared  at  each  other  in 
consternation.  A  State  secret,  big  with  portent, 
confronted  them ;  it  must  be  met  and  solved  with 
out  delay.  A  rapping  at  the  door  intensified 
their  suspense.  But  the  Chamberlain  rose  to  the 
occasion. 

"Miss  Shea,"  he  announced,  "you  must  be 
crowned  Queen  of  the  Fiesta.  We  have  no  time 
to  look  for  Miss  Almeric.  I  can't  imagine  what 
has  happened,  but  we'll  say  that  she  was  suddenly 
taken  ill  and  has  gone  home.  I  won't  have  this 
show  ruined  now,  after  all  I've  done  for  it.  But 
remember,"  he  added,  "nothing  is  to  be  told  of 
Miss  Almeric's  disappearance,  until  we  have  had 
time  to  investigate.  You  must  promise  on  your 
honour ! " 

They  nodded,  quite  serious  now,  and  the  Prime 
Minister,  giving  his  arm  to  Isyl,  led  her  into  the 
corridor,  where  the  procession  was  waiting  in  high 
disapproval  of  the  delay.  Behind  the  courtiers  a 
bevy  of  reporters,  already  scenting  trouble,  was 
watching  sharply.  The  word  was  passed  down 
[36] 


THE  CORONATION 

the  line  that  as  Miss  Almeric  was  ill,  Miss  Shea 
was  to  be  made  Queen,  and  a  murmur  of  discon 
tent  did  not  make  Isyl's  position  any  easier  to  face. 
She  took  her  place,  however,  under  a  bobbing 
canopy,  and  the  word  was  given  to  move. 

Preceded  by  a  small  herald,  wearing  a  blue 
i  baldric  and  holding  to  her  lips  a  paste  board 
trumpet,  the  procession  debouched  into  the  hall  of 
the  Pavilion,  and  marched  up  the  central  aisle, 
The  "  Drag  "  was  out  in  force,  full  of  expectation, 
triumphant  as  usual,  whether  at  election,  trial,  or 
junket.  The  great  concourse  of  spectators  was  as 
if  one  great  family  had  gathered  under  the  patri 
archal  guidance  of  Bob  Almeric,  the  uncrowned 
King  of  the  County.  To-night  his  abstract  majesty 
was  to  be  made  visibly  manifest  in  the  coronation  of 
his  twenty-year-old  daughter;  and  his  Aldermen, 
his  Judges,  his  Police  Officers  and  his  Heads  of 
Departments  were  ready  to  do  her  homage. 

But,  as  they  watched,  lo,  here  walked  the 
defeated  candidate,  Isyl  Shea,  escorted  in  triumph 
by  a  retinue  of  the  boss's  own  choosing !  It  was 
incredible ;  and  a  murmur  of  many  protesting  voices 
rose  to  the  ceiling.  No  one  could  deny  that  Isyl 
was  the  prettier  of  the  two  girls,  and  the  more 
[37] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ISYL 
fitting  to  be  crowned  a  Queen  of  Beauty.  She 
walked,  bashful'  and  hesitating  as  a  bride,  looking 
neither  this  way  nor  that,  toward  the  throne ;  but 
there  were  no  cheers  for  her  when  she  ascended 
the  dais. 

The  mystery  was  explained  by  an  announcement 
from  the  Chamberlain,  and  Bob  Almeric,  tearing 
himself  away  from  a  nest  of  sympathetic  friends, 
arose  and  hurried  from  the  hall.  The  ritual  pro 
ceeded. 

The  Prime  Minister  delivered  half-heartedly  his 
Coronation  speech.  Isyl  advanced  with  dignity, 
and  bending  her  head,  received  the  crown  and 
assumed  the  throne,  a  high-backed  piece  of  furni 
ture  seldom  seen  outside  of  photographic  studios. 
The  Mayor  of  San  Jose  arose,  and  in  a  few  mag 
nificent  words  highly  eulogistic  of  "  this  our  Garden 
Spot  of  the  World,"  presented  the  Queen  with  the 
keys  of  the  City  in  a  burned  leather  casket. 

The  band  now  struck  up  "God  Save  the 
Queen,*'  and  amidst  a  great  clattering  of  chairs 
removed  by  a  frantic  Floor  Committee,  the  pro 
cessional  promenade  was  formed  to  pass  the 
throne. 

So   these   subjects   of    her   Carnival    kingdom 
[38] 


THE  CORONATION 

passed  her  in  review,  led  by  the  ubiquitous  Board 
of  Trade.  Some  couples  stopped  and  bowed  with 
exaggerated  formality;  some  showed  awkward, 
sheepish  embarrassment,  some  scarcely  paused  in 
their  conversation,  but  nodded  their  heads  cava 
lierly.  It  was  over  at  last,  and  the  Chamberlain 
announced  the  first  dance. 

The  ball  should  have  been  opened  by  the  Queen, 
Isyl  knew,  but  no  one  came  to  escort  her  to  the 
floor.  Her  Ladies  in  Waiting,  seated  below  her, 
were  carried  off  one  by  one,  and  she  was  left  alone 
upon  her  conspicuous  perch,  like  a  statue  on  the 
cupola  of  a  gilded  dome.  It  was  evident  now  that 
she  was  to  be  ignored,  she  who  was  the  false 
Queen,  although  she  had  been  crowned  with  due 
solemnity.  The  "Drag,"  unable,  to  honour  their 
own  favourite,  was  to  dishonour  her.  The  humili 
ation  of  the  public  affront  burned  a  crimson  stain 
upon  her  cheek. 

The  throne  where  Isyl  now  found  herself  se 
questered  as  if  in  some  quaint  dream  was  upon  a 
high  platform  built  at  one  end  of  the  great  hall. 
All  about  were  hung  the  Fiesta  colours,  purple  and 
gold,  with  flags  of  all  nations  and  streamers  pendant 
from  every  angle  of  the  roof  trusses.  On  the  floor, 
[39] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ISYL 
the  whirling  dancers  wove  varying  patterns,  as  the 
uniforms  of  the  different  secret  fraternities  mingled 
with  the  brightly  coloured  gowns  of  the  ladies. 
The  swell  and  rhythmic  cadence  of  the  orchestra 
came  up  to  her  with  a  hum  of  conversation.  The 
music,  the  murmur  and  the  twinkle  of  many  electric 
lights  fascinated  her,  and  she  sat  as  if  hypnotised. 

"Oh,  Isyl!" 

There  was  a  voice  behind  her.  She  looked  and 
saw  only  a  wall  of  parti-coloured  bunting  gently 
waving  in  full  festoons.  She  seemed  to  be  alone 
on  the  great  platform,  cut  off  from  the  surging, 
swaying  crowd  below.  Again  she  heard  the  voice, 
and  a  clergyman  officiating  at  a  funeral  and  sud 
denly  interrupted  by  a  jest  from  the  corpse,  could 
have  been  no  more  surprised  than  was  the  Queen. 

"  Is  an  uncouth  stranger  permitted  to  address  the 
Goddess  of  Liberty  basking  in  the  limelight?" 

"  Who  in  the  world  are  you  ? "  she  said,  "  and 
where  in  the  world  are  you?" 

"  I  am  not  a  Nihilist  with  a  dynamite  bomb  ready 
to  blow  up  your  throne ;  that's  who  I  am !  And 
I  am  standing  on  a  keg  of  nails  in  the  doorway  of 
the  Committee  Room  about  eighteen  inches  behind 
your  royal  left  elbow.  If  you'll  kindly  stretch  back 
[40] 


THE  CORONATION 

your  lily-white  hand,  I  will  greet  your  Majesty  as 
royalty  was  ever  greeted  in  the  iron-bodied  yore- 
time." 

Seated  in  the  full  gaze  of  thousands  on  the  floor 
below,  Isyl  dared  not  laugh  aloud,  much  as  she 
wished  to.  She  held  her  fan  in  front  of  her  lips, 
and  asked, 

"  How  in  the  world  did  you  get  there  ?  " 

"  Not  being  able  to  force  my  fiery  war-horse  up 
the  stairs,  I  came  on  foot,"  replied  the  affable  mys 
tery.     "Now,  where  is  that  right  hand,  pleased- 
duty  before  pleasure ! " 

She  was  just  reckless  enough  by  this  time  to  as 
sent.  The  invisible  stranger,  reaching  through  an 
opening  in  the  bunting,  pressed  his  lips  to  her  out 
stretched  hand.  Then,  to  her  surprise,  he  slipped  a 
ring  upon  the  fourth  finger. 

"  Oh ! "  cried  the  Queen,  "  what's  this  for  ?  Why, 
I  can't  take  it,  really." 

"  Please  keep  it  till  called  for ;  owner  will  pay 
charges,"  said  the  stranger.  "  It's  wished  on,  remem 
ber." 

Isyl  turned  it  on  her  finger  in  wonder.  There  was 
something  familiar  about  the  sapphire,  yet  she  could 
not  remember  just  where  she  had  seen  one  like  it. 
[41] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ISYL 
She  was,  after  all,  having  a  better  time  than  she  had 
expected. 

"What  did  you  come  here  for?"  she  asked. 

"  The  fury  of  a  restless  desire,  adulterated  with  a 
four-per-cent.  solution  of  nothing-else-to-do,"  he  an 
swered. 

"  Did  you  see  me  in  the  hall  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  I  did,"  he  replied,  "  and  you  were  a  star  of  the 
first  magnitude.  But  I  had  an  instinctive  premonition, 
that  it  might  be  chilly  at  your  lofty  altitude,  removed 
from  the  common  herd  of  cheap  Swedes.  I  thought 
perhaps  you  wouldn't  mind  a  few  merry  how-de-do's, 
not  to  be  discovered  in  Hoyle,  his  Book.  Hence  these 
jollies.  Say,  does  that  go  ?  "  he  added  anxiously. 

"  Did  you  escape  from  the  Agnews  Asylum  ?  " 
Isyl  asked,  amazed  at  these  figures  of  speech.  "  You 
seem  to  be  a  rather  talkative  young  lunatic ! " 

"  Oh,  if  you  are  otherwise  engaged  in  profound 
contemplation,  or  ruminating  on  the  Theory  of  Inde 
terminate  Asymptotes,  why  then  I  can  fade  away. 
But  say,  you  don't  mind  a  royal  intrigue  on  the  Q.T., 
do  you?" 

"  Idiot,"  said  the  Queen,  "  what  do  you  want? " 

"  See  here,  little  girl,  seriously,  you're  not  having  a 
very  good  time  up  there,  are  you  ?  " 
[42] 


THE  CORONATION 

"  No,"  said  Isyl,  looking  at  the  sapphire, "  I'm  not." 

"  It  was  a  low  Dutch  trick  to  cut  you  out  like  this," 
he  went  on  emphatically.  "  I  wouldn't  stand  for  it." 

"  What  can  I  do  ?  "  she  asked.  "  I  can't  take  my 
dolls  and  go  home.  Really,  it's  awfully  good  of  you 
to  come  up  here  and  sympathise.  Of  course,  though, 
I  must  admit  that  it's  an  inexcusable  impertinence.  I 
don't  even  know  you." 

"  Then  it  is  the  proper  time  to  get  acquainted," 
said  the  unseen. 

"  Well,  you  might  stay  a  little  while  and  amuse 
me,  if  you  have  nothing  else  to  do,"  she  suggested. 

"All  right,"  he  assented.  "  Of  course,  I  can't  do 
many  parlour  tricks  or  palmistry  stunts,  standing  on  a 
barrel  behind  the  arras,  but  if  there  is  any  witchery 
in  the  human  baritone  to  charm  an  ostracised  prin 
cess,  just  let  me  know  and  I'm  your  nightingale. 
Shall  I  warble  a  few  low  notes  ?  I'm  just  out  of 
conundrums." 

"  Oh,  just  talk  and  amuse  me,"  said  Isyl. 

"Say,  I  know!  That  two-step  they're  spieling 
reminds  me  of  a  funny  thing  I  ran  across  once.  It's 

a  true  story.     Shall  I  sing  you  a  song  of  the  long 

?»t 
w 

"  If  you  can  tell  it  in  the  English  language,  do/* 
[43] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ISYL 
said  Isyl,  and  she  prepared  to  listen,  looking  pensively 
over  the  assembly. 

"  Wait  till  I  change  my  feet,"  was  the  reply,  and 
he  proceeded  with 

The  Story  of  the  Mysterious  Stranger 

TWO-STEP  WILLIE 

or,  Love  Terpsichorean 

THE  newsiest  elopement   in  San  Francisco 
never  happened.       So    the    only   reason    I 
know  anything  about  it  is  because    I    pat 
ronise  the  Tonsorial  Parlours  of  William  J.  Riddle, 
B.  S. ;  which  initials  stand  for  the  degree  of  Bache 
lor  of  Shaving  as  conferred  by  the  Barbers'  College 
on  Third  Street. 

A  barber  has  to  talk;  perhaps  because  the 
comic  weeklies  have  committed  him  to  the  custom, 
and  perhaps  because  his  trade  is  as  near  being  a 
feminine  accomplishment  as  a  man  of  spirit  will  un 
dertake.  Anyway,  W.  J.  Riddle  is  no  exception 
to  the  rule,  and  this  is  the  cause  of  his  occasionally 
varying  his  ordinary  nickname  of  Two-Step  Willie 
with  that  of  Gabby  Bill.  The  brief  but  joyous  his 
tory  of  his  fatal  plunge  into  the  society  of  San  Fran- 
[44] 


THE  CORONATION 

cisco*s  "  400  "  will  explain  both  aliases.  W.  J.  is 
rather  proud  of  the  tale  now,  and  he  told  it  to  me 
with  all  the  relish  that  a  maiden  aunt  has  in  narrat 
ing  the  story  of  her  trip  to  Paris  and  Monte  Carlo. 
This  is  the  yarn,  O  Queen ! 

About  ten  years  ago,  the  Real  Thing  in  San 
Francisco's  swell  drag  was  Pierpoint  Browning, 
and  unless  every  festive  function  had  his  name 
blown  in  the  bottle  it  didn't  write  up  for  more 
than  two  or  three  lines  in  the  social  columns  of  the 
"Wave/*  He  was  only  a  marine  underwriter's 
clerk  before  he  graduated  into  steering  the  haul  ton 
and  leading  cotillions,  and  all  this  happened  at  about 
the  time  he  was  in  the  transition  state. 

"  Browny,"  as  they  used  to  call  him,  when  they 
wanted  his  help,  was  all  things  to  all  women.  He 
was  a  good  "  tame  cat "  when  you  needed  a  seat 
filled  in  your  theatre  box,  he  could  everlastingly 
decorate  a  dinner  table  and  tell  you  how  to  drape 
fish-nets,  he  could  invent  freak  cotillion  stunts  to 
beat  the  trolley,  and  he  knew  down  to  four  places  of 
decimals  just  who  was  who  in  a  town  where  most 
millionaire's  ancestors,  half  a  generation  back,  are 
washwomen  or  terriers.  The  buds  said  he  was 
"  just  lovely,"  the  married  women  said  he  was  "  so 
[45] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ISYL 
interesting,"  and  he  was  solid  with  the  dowagers. 
He  had  a  free  annual  pass  everywhere  worth  go 
ing.  He  was  a  "universal  favourite"  and  ever 
"  the  life  of  the  party."  What  was  more  to  the 
point  with  the  swells  was  that  Browny  was  of  a  good 
rich,  ripe,  juicy  Southern  family  himself,  if  he  was  an 
underwriter's  clerk,  and  he  had  grandfathers  to 
throw  at  the  birds. 

The  consequence  was,  he  soon  became  a  kind 
of  social  dictator  and  blue-book  expert.  He  could 
make  out  a  list  of  invitations  for  a  reception  that 
required  no  asterisks  or  foot-notes  to  explain  why. 
A  debutante  didn't  dare  to  come  out  till  her  old 
man  had  squared  "  Browny  "  and  got  his  sanction ; 
or  if  she  did,  she  soon  found  herself  with  the  wall 
flowers.  Nobody  ever  quite  knew  how  he  man 
aged  to  wire  the  town  so  well,  but  if  you  cut 
"  Browny "  you  cut  a  live  wire  and  were  socially 
paralysed.  Everybody  that  came  within  ten  blocks 
of  good  society,  from  chaperones  to  caterers,  tried 
to  get  a  line  on  him. 

Of  course  Browny  had  his  pick  of  the  town,  and 
he  marked  a  bud  named  Flora  Donovan  for  the  fu 
ture  Mrs.  Browning,  and  proceeded  to  nail  her 
down.     He  was  in  a  position,  by  this  rime,  to  give 
[46] 


THE  CORONATION 

any  favourite  of  his  a  pretty  good  time,  without  it 
costing  him  a  bean,  and  so  Flora  came  in  for  the 
cream  of  everything  doing.  If  she  wanted  to  go  to 
Del  Monte  that  Summer,  Browny  made  Del  Monte 
the  only  possible  resort  for  any  one  in  the  swim.  If 
she  preferred  Castle  Crags,  the  tavern  underneath 
Mt.  Shasta  became  the  Mecca  of  the  swells.  If 
Flora  gave  a  tea,  she  got  no  "regrets" — every 
body  came — they  had  to.  Flora  could  get  into 
drawing-rooms  where  her  mother  wouldn't  try  to 
push  past  the  door.  If  there  was  a  distinguished 
stranger  or  literary  guy  hit  the  town,  Flora  had 
him  and  Browny  up  to  dinner,  and  sent  her  father 
to  bed. 

Now  Flora  Donovan  wasn't  what  you  might  call 
of  the  elect  or  to  the  manner  born,  but  was  strictly 
Browning-made.  That  is  to  say,  her  father  was  a 
day-labourer  in  Virginia  City  before  he  struck  pay 
dirt  and  swelled  up  into  seven  figures.  Her 
mother  used  to  cook  for  thirty  terriers  at  the  Black 
Betty  Mine.  But  anything  like  that  goes  all  right 
in  San  Francisco,  if  it  has  money  and  the  social 
backing  of  Pierpoint  Browning. 

Flora,  then,  as  you  may  imagine,  was  a  bit  short 
on  the  Intellectual  Life.  She  was  all  sorts  of  a 
147] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ISYL 

good  fellow,  though,  with  a  will  and  a  way  of  her 
own  and  plenty  of  red  blood  corpuscles.  But  she 
wouldn't  have  known  Differential  Calculus  if  she 
had  eaten  it  fried  a  la  Maryland.  She  was  big 
and  pretty,  and  everybody  liked  her  and  no  catch 
questions  asked.  Everybody  thought  that  she  and 
Browny  were  as  good  as  engaged,  when,  bing! 
they  had  a  little  spat,  which,  at  last,  introduces 
Two-Step  Willie. 

Browny  was  in  the  habit  of  patronising  a  little 
three-chair  barber  shop  near  his  office  on  Mont 
gomery  Street,  and  he  had  broken  my  friend  Rid 
dle  to  cut  the  Browning  hair  and  trim  the  Brown 
ing  beard  exactly  as  Browning  wanted  it  done,  and 
no  foolishness  about  sea-foam  shampoos  or  dan 
druff  cure.  Riddle  talked  ever  as  he  worked,  in 
the  way  that  barbers  will. 

One  day  when  Willie  Riddle  was  stropping  his 
razor,  he  said,  "Say,  Mr.  Browning,  I  understand 
you  get  up  a  good  many  parties  around  town.  Is 
that  right?" 

Pierpoint  Browning  spluttered  out  an  "  Oh,  yes," 
and  Riddle  went  on,  insinuatingly,  showing  what  a 
good  fellow  he  could  be, 

"  Say,  you  know  I'm  more  or  less  of  a  dancing 
[48] 


THE  CORONATION 

man  myself,  and  I  wouldn't  mind  if  you  got  me  an 
invite  to  some  of  them  flare-outs." 

Browny  chuckled.  He  had  heard  something  of 
Riddle's  history,  for  the  barber  was  then  renowned, 
South  of  Market  Street,  as  "Two-Step  Willie," 
that  being  his  favourite  dance,  wherein  he  excelled, 
fabulously.  He  was  the  President  of  the  Chrysan 
themum  Social  and  Outing  Club,  too,  besides  hav 
ing  won  first  prize  "  for  the  best-dressed  gent "  at 
the  Christmas  Masquerade  Ball  of  the  "Vultures." 
All  of  which,  being  translated,  means  that  Two- 
Step  Willie  was,  in  his  own  set,  quite  as  great  a 
man  as  Browny  was  in  his,  although,  as  you  know, 
there's  very  little  reciprocity  between  the  North 
and  the  South  of  Market  Street.  Being  able, 
moreover,  to  dance  a  two-step  to  perfection,  and 
having  charmed  one-half  of  the  city  with  his  nimble, 
twinkling  heels,  Willie  was  longing  for  more  worlds 
to  conquer.  He  needed  only  a  little  coaching  to 
be  a  regular  dancing-master  or  cotillion  leader. 

Now,  Willie  Riddle's  request  just  happened  to 
remind  Browny  of  a  remark  of  Flora's  that  ran 
kled.  "You  can't  dance  the  two-step  for  raw 
potatoes,  that's  why  you  won't  have  them  on  your 
dance-programmes,"  was  the  characteristic  way 
[49] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ISYL 

she  had  put  it,  for  Browny  was  particularly  down 
on  the  new  jump,  and  wouldn't  stand  for  it.  The 
jest  lay  rather  in  the  manner  than  the  matter  of  it, 
but  it  had  made  Browny  pretty  sore. 

A  horrid  thought  entered  Pierpoint  Browning's 
head.  It  took  unto  itself  roots  and  grew.  It  was 
weird,  for  a  person  of  Pierpoint  Browning's  staid 
powers  of  imagination,  and  it  bewitched  him.  If 
Flora  Donovan  wanted  some  one  whose  chief 
requisite  was  an  ability  to  trip  the  light  fantastic 
two-step,  why  not  introduce  William  J.  Riddle,  the 
Pride  of  Minna  Street?  It  would  be  a  good  joke 
on  Flora.  As  for  the  murder  of  Riddle's  subse 
quent  career,  that  would  be  easily  managed.  It 
would  be  simply  a  one-night  stand,  and  then  back 
to  the  mug  and  strop  again. 

"H'm,"  Browny  said,  after  he  had  thought  all 
this  out,  "  I  don't  know  but  I  might  manage  to  get 
you  an  invitation  sometime.  I'll  see."  And  he  did. 

It  took  him  about  two  weeks  to  get  Two-Step 
Willie  into  training  for  the  Friday  Night  Cotillion, 
and  Browny  had  him  round  to  his  room  coaching 
him  on  all  points  and  sundry.  He  reorganised  Wil 
lie's  Minna  Street  Theory  of  Dress,  and  trimmed 
down  some  of  his  Tar  Flat  ideals  of  free  and 
[50] 


THE  CORONATION 

easy  deportment.  By  tightening  up  a  screw  here, 
loosening  a  nut  there,  and  oiling  him  up  all  over, 
he  succeeded  in  making  Willie  socially  presentable. 
The  talky-talk  part  was  easy.  A  barber  meets  a 
good  many  different  sorts  of  people,  and  this  one 
had  a  rather  smart  and  fetching  line  of  gab  that 
would  fool  any  ordinary  onlooker. 

So,  one  Friday  night,  Browny  trotted  out  his  new 
entry,  as  Mr.  Will  Riddle,  and  introduced  him  to 
Flora  and  the  rest  of  the  debutantes,  mentioning 
something  hazy  about  his  being  related  to  The 
Riddles  of  Philadelphia.  Willie  did  actually  hap 
pen  to  have  a  second-cousin  there.  You  know,  of 
course,  that,  in  Philadelphia  there  are  Riddles  and 
Riddles.  This  one  was  a  plumber. 

Mr.  Riddle  of  San  Francisco  then  sailed  in,  with 
his  customary  expectation  of  easy  victory,  jauntily 
jollied  Miss  Donovan  and  her  300-pound  mamma, 
and  then  entered  for  a  two-step  which  Browny  had 
taken  good  care  to  put  in  on  the  list  of  dances. 
Willie  was  not  disappointed.  He  scored  a  gold 
bull's-eye.  Then  he  made  good  all  along  the  line, 
for  when  it  came  to  sitting  out  for  a  corner-chat,  or 
a  heart-to-heart  flirtation  in  the  supper-room,  he 
was  perfectly  able  to  deliver  the  goods. 
[51] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ISYL 
Perhaps  all  clever  and  successful  men  make  love 
in  the  same  way ;  and  no  doubt  what  went  with 
the  salesladies  of  Minna  Street  was  only  a  part  of 
the  General  Girl  Proposition.  He  made  a  hit 
with  Flora,  at  any  rate.  In  fact,  he  did  it  a  good 
deal  too  well  and  too  soon  to  suit  Pierpoint  Brown 
ing;  and  no  doubt  Flora  enjoyed  playing  off  the 
handsome  stranger  against  her  would-be,  on 
account  of  the  spat  which  hadn't  quite  healed  over. 
She  certainly  was  good  to  Willie. 

Meanwhile,  Riddle  had  put  in  some  fine  work 
with  Flora's  mother.  Most  people  had  an  idea  that 
the  mention  of  life  in  Virginia  City  in  the  early  six 
ties  would  be  considered  indelicate  and  in  bad  taste 
by  the  Donovans,  since  their  rise  to  social  eminence, 
but  Willie  was  innocent,  and  butted  right  in  with  a 
remark  about  his  having  lived  in  Virginia  City  him 
self,  about  that  time,  and  the  old  lady  took  him 
into  her  heart  straightway.  The  fact  was,  she 
loved  to  talk  about  old  times,  but  Flora  wouldn't 
let  her.  So  it  was  that  Willie  left  the  cotillion 
with  an  invitation  to  dine  at  the  Donovan's  next 
day.  He  didn't  tell  Browny. 

That  next  day,  the  gods  called  Pierpoint  Brown 
ing  out  of  town  ;  he  went  to  El  Paso  on  hurry  busi- 
[52] 


THE  CORONATION 

ness,  and  from  there  to  Mexico,  and  it  was  two 
weeks  before  he  got  back.  He  had  forgotten  all 
about  Two-Step  Willie,  though  he  had  thought  some 
about  Flora.  It  never  entered  his  head  that  Willie 
could  have  been  climbing  the  social  ladder,  hand 
over  hand,  meanwhile.  When  Browny  went  up  to 
call  on  the  Donovans,  he  nearly  fainted  away. 

Willie  had  been  industriously  sawing  wood,  and 
by  this  time  he  was  an  old  friend  of  the  family.  Old 
Mr.  Donovan  was  calling  him  Bill,  the  old  lady  had 
half  talked  him  to  death,  Flora  had  introduced  him 
to  nearly  everybody  in  town,  and  the  bull  pup  had 
stopped  growling  at  him. 

How  Willie  had  kept  up  his  end  the  Lord  only 
knows.  From  what  he  let  drop  I  imagine  that  he 
had  spent  about  every  cent  he  had  saved  to  buy  an 
interest  in  a  shop  with,  and  I  have  no  doubt  he 
counted  the  money  well  lost.  He  had  splurged  in 
flowers  and  cabs  and  suppers  and  theatre  tickets  in 
a  way  that  did  him  credit  as  a  rapid-fire  spender. 
He  had  done  it  up  brown,  travelling  every  night 
after  7.30  as  W.  Jimpson  Riddle,  a  relative  of  The 
Riddles  of  Philadelphia,  and  yelling  "  next !  "  every 
day  at  his  chair  in  the  Montgomery  Street  shop. 
Talk  about  Monsieur  Beaucaire !  He  led  a  double 
[53] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  1SYL 
life,  all  right.  It  was  lucky  for  him  that  none  of  the 
men  in  Flora's  set  happened  to  patronise  that  Ton- 
sorial  Establishment.  Mrs.  Donovan  admired  his 
white,  soft  hands,  and  thought  his  finger-nails  were 
very  distinguished-looking. 

Browny  sat  and  stared  while  his  protege  patron 
ised  him  in  a  way  that  would  have  made  a  hen 
laugh.  I  don't  suppose  it  had  ever  entered  Willie's 
head  that  he  wasn't  the  social  equal  of  any  one  who 
couldn't  two-step.  He  really  believed  that  this  was 
a  free  country,  and  all  men  equal. 

What  the  devil  was  Browny  to  do  ?  If  he  showed 
up  Two-Step  Willie  he  would  have  to  confess  to 
having  planned  a  pretty  mean  game  himself,  but  he 
couldn't  bear  to  let  the  thing  go  on  any  farther.  It 
certainly  wasn't  right  to  Flora.  It  was  a  hard  nut  to 
crack.  He  couldn't  ask  Willie  to  step  down  and  out, 
at  this  late  hour.  His  one  hope  was  that  the  barber 
wouldn't  be  able  to  stand  the  pace  and  would  sink 
back  into  a  Minna  Street  oblivion  from  lack  of  funds. 
But  just  about  as  soon  as  he  decided  this,  Willie 
showed  his  hand.  He  was  helplessly  in  love,  and 
was  actually  trying  to  marry  Flora  Donovan.  He 
told  Browny  about  it  himself ! 

How  Flora  could  stand  for  him,  Browny  couldn't 
[54] 


THE  CORONATION 

see,  but  she  advertised  the  fact  liberally.  She  had 
him  everywhere,  and  Browny  didn't  even  have  a 
chance  for  a  look-in.  If  he  called  in  the  daytime, 
Flora  was  out.  If  he  called  in  the  evening,  or  met 
her  at  a  blow-out,  little  old  Two-Step  Willie  would 
be  surely  moored  alongside.  Browny  never  could  get 
her  alone,  even  if  he'd  dared  to  tell  the  horrid  truth, 
which  was  becoming  harder  every  day. 

So  matters  went  along  for  a  week,  and  Browny 
lay  awake  nights  over  it.  He'd  begun  to  want  the 
girl  pretty  bad  himself,  by  this  time,  only  he  didn't 
dare  to  confess.  Two-Step  Willie  had  now  got  his 
second  wind  and  was  a  game  stayer. 

Finally  Browny  took  his  life  in  his  hands  and  sent 
word  to  Flora  that  he  must  see  her  that  afternoon. 
She  said  she'd  be  in.  Browny,  I  think,  was  going  to 
settle  the  puzzle  by  proposing  to  her  himself,  and  call 
ing  for  a  show-down. 

He  was  taken  into  a  little  reception-room  off  the 
hall,  and  while  he  was  waiting,  he  heard  Flora  come 
from  the  dining-room  where  the  maid  didn't  seem  to 
have  looked  for  her.  She  went  to  the  telephone 
and  began  to  talk.  When  Browny  heard  her  say, 
"  Hello,  Willie,"  he  listened  like  a  school-girl.  And 
he  certainly  heard  things. 

[55] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ISYL 

Yes,  he  heard  enough  to  make  him  perspire  freely. 
From  what  he  caught,  he  grew  pretty  certain  that 
Flora  and  Willie  were  engaged,  and  that  they  were 
planning  to  elope  that  very  evening  and  take  the 
Owl  train  to  Los  Angeles.  That  settled  it  for  him. 
But  of  course  he  didn't  know  that  Flora  hadn't 
taken  the  telephone  off  the  hook  at  all,  and  was 
really  talking  to  the  hat-rack. 

Flora  came  into  the  reception-room  with  her  hat 
on,  and  seemed  to  be  very  much  surprised  to  find 
Browny  waiting  for  her  there.  He  didn't  lose  any 
time,  but  went  to  it  like  a  man. 

"  I  have  come  to  say  what  I  ought  to  have  told 
you  long  ago,  Flora,  only  I  didn't  dare  to.  I  intro 
duced  you  to  Mr.  Riddle,  and  I  wilfully  deceived 
you  about  him.  I  deserve  to  be  horsewhipped. 
But  you  mustn't  have  anything  more  to  do  with  him, 
Flora." 

"Why?"  asked  Flora.  "I  think  he  is  awfully 
interesting." 

"  He's  not  what  you  think  he  is,"  Browny  stam 
mered;  "  the  fact  is,  he's  a  barber ! " 

Flora  laughed. 

"  Well,  Mr.  Browning,  you've  decided  to  tell  me 
at  last,  have  you  ?  " 

[56] 


THE  CORONATION 

It  was  now  Browny's  turn  to  be  bewildered. 

"  Do  you  mean  to  say  you  knew  it  before?"  he 
asked. 

"  I've  known  it  for  some  time/*  she  answered, 
smiling  at  him  in  a  highly  pleased  way,  "  and  I  was 
only  waiting  to  see  whether  or  not  you'd  be  honour 
able  enough  to  confess  your  rather  poor  joke  on  me. 
I'm  glad  you  have,  at  last,  though  it's  pretty  late  in 
the  day!" 

Well,  Browny  married  her  that  winter,  so  I  ex 
pect  they  made  it  up  all  right.  And  I  believe  that 
Two-Step  Willie  is  still  a  friend,  and  calls  regularly 
— always  after  7.30  p.m.,  though.  The  funny 
part  of  the  whole  thing,  or  the  pathetic  part,  if  you 
like,  was  that  Willie  told  Flora  his  business,  in  all 
innocence,  the  night  he  was  first  introduced. 


[57] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ISYL 

III 
THE  GRAND  COMMANDER 

9  HOW  Queen  Isyl  was  rescued  of  her  plight  &p  her 
knights,  and  was  "Wooed  by  the  Grand  Commander :  The 
Tale  of  Love  Juvenile. 

DURING  the  last  sentences  of  the  mysteri 
ous  stranger's  narrative,  Queen  Isyl's  eyes, 
gazing  somewhat  abstractedly  over  the 
crowd  of  dancers  on  the  floor  below,  had  noticed  a 
slight  commotion  at  the  farther  end  of  the  Pavilion. 
This  excitement  spread  rapidly,  until  one  by  one  the 
couples  left  the  centre  of  the  hall,  and  stood  watch 
ing  the  main  entrance.  The  band  stopped,  and  in 
the  sudden  silence  there  came  a  hullabaloo  from 
outside ;  a  fusillade  of  pistol  shots  was  heard,  fol 
lowed  by  loud  cheering.  Through  this  clamour, 
Isyl  caught  her  own  name  yelled  by  staccato  voices, 
as  the  new  arrivals  came  jubilantly  nearer.  She 
turned  toward  the  hiding-place  of  the  stranger, 
and  spoke  hurriedly  behind  her  fan. 

"You  must  go  now,  quick!     Do  you  hear  all 
that  racket?     It  must  be  the  Knights  of  the  Golden 

[58] 


THE  GRAND  COMMANDER 
Gate — my  friends,  and  I  must  be  ready  to  receive 
them.     It  will  be  all  right  now.     You  have  been 
awfully  good  to  me,  but  you  mustn't  be  found  here." 

"  Well,"  said  the  stranger,  "  I'll  vanish  if  I  must 
be  geshaken,  but  I'll  return  to  claim  my  blooming 
bride  anon,  at  the  psychological  moment.  Is  there 
anything  I  can  do  for  you,  my  Queen  ?  " 

Isyl's  thoughts  ran  quickly  to  Norine's  flight. 
"Yes,"  she  said,  "you  can!  Go  to  Miss  Al- 
meric's  house,  see  her  or  her  father  if  you  can, 
and  find  out  what  is  the  matter.  Something  has  hap 
pened  and  I  must  know  what  it  is.  Can  you  do  that 
for  me  ?  " 

"  He  can  do  little  who  can't  do  this,"  was  the 
reply.  "  I'm  as  good  a  little  Pinkerton  as  you  ever 
sent  anywhere." 

She  tossed  her  lace  handkerchief  behind  her. 
"Here,  take  this,  so  that  I'll  know  you  when  you 
come  back,"  she  whispered. 

She  glanced  behind  her,  and  saw  a  hand  cap 
ture  the  favour ;  then  she  heard  the  stranger  jump 
ing  to  the  floor.  A  door  slammed.  At  that  mo 
ment  the  hilarious  Commandery  of  the  Knights  of 
the  Golden  Gate  burst  into  the  hall,  a  whirlwind 
of  thirty  impetuous  youths  uniformed  in  white  canvas 
[59] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ISYL 
vaquero  costumes.     They  proceeded  noisily  toward 
the  throne,  crying  "  Long  live  Queen  Isyl." 

After  this  tribute  they  started  to  enliven  the 
assembly,  but  the  Grand  Commander,  mindful  of 
his  official  position,  bowed  low  before  the  dais, 
swinging  a  huge  white  sombrero  from  his  head. 
He  was  what  some  women  would  call  a  handsome 
man. 

"  Well,  Miss  Isyl — I  beg  pardon,  your  Majesty," 
he  said,  "you  are  looking  charming  this  evening. 
You  need  no  sceptre  to  show  your  power.  You 
must  remember,"  he  added  playfully,  "  that  I  proph 
esied  this ! " 

In  private  life,  the  Grand  Commander  was  a 
Latin  teacher  in  the  Santa  Clara  High  School. 
His  pedantry  was  familiar  to  Isyl,  but  something  in 
the  cock-sureness  of  his  congratulation  aroused  her 
suspicion. 

"  I'm  sorry  it  had  to  come  this  way ! "  she  said, 
"and  I'm  awfully  worried  over  Miss  Almeric. 
Have  you  heard  anything  about  her  ?  " 

"No,"  said  the   Grand    Commander,  "and    I 

don't  know  that  I  care  to.     I  believe  that  you  were 

legally  elected,  and  you  should  be  quite  at  your 

ease  upon  the  throne.     The  pernicious  methods  of 

[60] 


THE  GRAND  COMMANDER 
the  '  Drag '  you  know  as  well  as  I — but  we  fooled 
them  this  time." 

Isyl  caught  at  this  last  phrase  with  another 
doubt  of  his  meaning.  "  Fooled  them  ?  What  do 
you  mean  ?  " 

"  Nothing  at  all,  I  assure  you,  only  you  are  the 
reigning  monarch  after  all."  Here  he  smiled,  show 
ing  a  line  of  teeth,  so  white  and  regular,  as  to  make 
one  suspect  their  genuineness.  He  put  his  hand 
to  his  waistcoat  theatrically.  "  But  you  have 
always  reigned  in  my  heart !  Will  your  gracious 
Majesty  deign  to  favour  me  with  a  dance  ?  " 

"  Not  in  this  long  train,"  Isyl  said,  "  but  I'd  be 
glad  if  you  would  take  me  to  the  supper-room ;  I 
feel  rather  faint  and  my  head  aches." 

"  Ah,  yes,  *  uneasy  lies  the  head  that  wears  a 
crown,'  as  Shakespeare  says,"  he  responded,  and 
gave  her  his  arm.  They  descended  to  the  floor. 
Now  that  the  tide  had  turned  in  her  favour,  there 
was  more  fire  in  her  eyes,  and  she  played  her  part 
with  spirit.  Her  progress  became  an  ovation. 
The  Knights  of  the  Golden  Gate,  a  bit  afraid  of 
her  while  she  was  a  statue,  crowded  about  her  with 
immoderate  congratulations.  The  chaperones,  who 
had  kept  basilisk  eyes  upon  her,  askance,  petted 
[61] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ISYL 
her  with  hypocritical  compliments,  and  she  was 
besieged  with  reporters.  The  official  news  of 
Norine's  disappearance  had  been  given  to  them  by 
the  Chamberlain  and  the  Prime  Minister,  and  these 
two  officers  had  said  all  that  was  to  be  said,  so  the 
reigning  Queen  had  chiefly  to  promise  her  photo 
graphs  and  make  perfunctory  conversation.  Her 
Maids  of  Honour,  with  the  rest  of  the  following  of 
the  "  Drag,"  were  cool  and  drily  polite. 

Desirous  of  one  of  those  tete-a-tetes  for  which 
he  was  notorious,  the  Grand  Commander  rescued 
her  from  all  this  adulation,  and,  with  experienced 
manoeuvres,  secured  for  her  a  secluded  corner  of 
the  supper-room.  Here  he  ensconced  her  and 
prepared  for  a  determined  love-making. 

At  first,  Isyl  made  no  effort  to  follow  his  silly 
and  stilted  conversation.  She  had  too  much  to 
think  about  to  be  much  interested  in  the  school 
master  who  had  bored  her  with  his  attentions  for 
the  last  two  years.  The  sapphire  ring  on  her 
finger  was  alone  enough  to  keep  a  maiden's  mind 
busy  with  conjectures.  But  at  last  she  became 
aware  that  her  companion  was  becoming  even 
more  fulsome  than  usual  in  his  compliments,  more 
languishing  in  his  gaze. 

[62] 


THE  GRAND  COMMANDER 

She  made  no  pretence  of  attention,  but  let  her 
mind  wander  to  the  mysterious  stranger,  who  should, 
she  thought,  have  returned  before  this.  Who  was 
he  ?  What  did  he  mean  by  the  ring  ?  And,  neither 
least  nor  last  in  her  imaginings,  she  wondered  if  he 
were  handsome — as  good-looking,  say,  as  the  Grand 
Commander,  still  mouthing  his  interminable  blandish 
ments. 

Then,  at  a  doorway  on  the  other  side  of  the  room, 
a  young  man  suddenly  appeared,  dangling  a  lace 
handkerchief  in  his  hand.  He  was  tall,  and  wore 
evening  dress.  A  maid  would  have  to  be  consider 
ably  in  love  with  him  to  persuade  herself  that  he  was 
handsome,  for  a  tumbled  shock  of  copper-coloured 
hair  surmounted  a  freckled  face  with  a  square  jaw. 
Isyl,  catching  this  first  glimpse  of  him,  felt  her  heart 
sink  with  disappointment.  Was  this  the  romantic, 
picturesque  cavalier  she  had  been  awaiting  with  so 
much  eagerness  ?  And  then  he  smiled. 

A  man  could  do  anything  with  a  smile  like  that, 
and  a  woman  nothing  against  it.  It  was  the  antidote 
always  ready  for  his  impertinence.  It  was  a  smile 
that  blew  down  resentment  as  a  wind  blows  down  a 
fence,  and  it  took  Isyl  off  her  feet  at  once.  The  stran 
ger  was  ugly,  there  was  no  doubt  of  that,  but  the 
[63] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ISYL 
character  in  his  face  made  the  Grand  Commander 
look  like  a  pretty  doll.    Between  the  two  of  them 
there  was  instant  conflict. 

"  There  is  a  gentleman  over  there  trying  to  catch 
your  eye,"  remarked  the  Grand  Commander.  "  To 
my  mind,  he  resembles  nothing  more  than  a  gargoyle, 
if  you  catch  my  meaning.  You  of  course  are  aware 
that  in  the  Gothic  period  of  architecture " 

"  That  man  is  a  very  good  friend  of  mine,"  Isyl  in 
terrupted,  stiffly  and  curtly. 

"  Oh,  I  beg  pardon,  I'm  sure,"  said  the  Grand 
Commander. 

The  mysterious  stranger  approached  the  pair  with 
nonchalance. 

"  Your  Majesty,"  he  began,  "  I  believe  you  prom 
ised  me  a  few  moments  this  evening.  Could  I  have 
the  pleasure  of  some  bunches  of  well-chosen  words 
with  thee?" 

"  The  Queen  is  otherwise  engaged,  as  you  can 
easily  see,"  said  the  Grand  Commander,  infuriated 
at  this  interruption. 

The  mysterious  stranger  bowed  with  mock  polite 
ness.  "  I'll  have  to  disappoint  you  by  refusing  to  give 
the  countercheck-quarrelsome  in  the  presence  of  the 
Queen  of  Love  and  Beauty,"  he  said,  suavely. 

[64] 


THE  GRAND  COMMANDER 

Isyl,  who,  after  the  Grand  Commander's  exhibi 
tion  of  tact,  would  have  accepted  the  company  of  a 
chimpanzee,  in  preference,  turned  to  him  with  the 
smile  that  women  give  at  such  times.  "  You'll  really 
have  to  excuse  me,"  she  said,  "  I  did  promise  him  a 
few  minutes." 

The  discomfited  wooer  left  sullenly. 

"  Now  what  have  you  found  out  ?  "  the  Queen 
asked. 

"  Nothing,"  was  the  disappointing  reply.  "  The 
equation  has  two  unknown  quantities,  and  I  never 
had  more  than  a  handshake  with  Quadratics.  But 
here's  the  recipe :  let  X  represent  the  missing  lady, 
and  Y  her  blindly  doting  father.  Let  A  be  the  Pa 
vilion,  and  B  the  Almerics'  happy  home.  To 
prove :  that  A  minus  X  equals  B  plus  X  plus  Y. 
If  you're  up  on  the  Binomial  Theorem,  here's  a  lead 
pencil  and  an  old  envelope  to  figure  on." 

"  Could  you  please  talk  sense  for  one  minute  ?  " 
Isyl  pleaded. 

"  Easy,"  was  the  reply.  "  Here  it  is,  in  words  of 
one  syllable.  Old  man  Almeric  wouldn't  talk  till  I 
had  inserted  one  of  my  patent-leather  7's  in  the  crack 
of  the  door,  and  refused  to  let  him  shut  it.  He  then 
gave  me  one  of  the  most  cordial  invitations  to  stay 
[65] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ISYL 
out  that  I  have  ever  experienced  in  a  short  but 
somewhat  zig-zag  career.  When  I  insisted,  in  my 
artless  Japanese  way,  that  I  had  to  have  the  news, 
he  swore  with  one  hand  on  his  heart  that  his  daugh 
ter  was  up-stairs  with  a  raging  headache,  and  with  the 
other  he  reached  for  a  large,  determined-looking 
stick.  I  departed,  without  leaving  my  card." 

"Then  Norine  is  at  home,  after  all?"  said  the 
Queen. 

"  She  is,  or  she  isn't — that's  a  skinch.  But  in  my 
took  it's  a  thousand  to  one  shot  that  she  isn't. 
The  old  man  followed  me  back,  and  I  saw  him 
arguing  with  the  high  Muck-a-muck,  here.  The 
one  that  thinks  he's  a  Chamberlain  or  Lord  High 
Executioner  or  something." 

"Why,  I've  heard  nothing  about  it!"  Isyl 
exclaimed. 

"Of  course  not.  I  figure  it  out  this  way. 
Dolly's  lost,  and  the  old  man  thinks  maybe  she's  up 
to  larks,  and  he's  afraid  of  the  scandal,  if  the 
papers  get  hold  of  it.  The  fierce  white  light  that 
beats  about  a  throne,  as  Kipling  says,  is  apt  to  say 
unpleasant  things  at  a  time  like  this,  and  until  he 
knows  just  what's  up,  old  Almeric  is  playing  against 
time  and  holding  his  jaw.  He  doesn't  know  where 
[66] 


THE  GRAND  COMMANDER 
she  is  any  more  than  we  do,  and  we'll  have  to  look 
in  another  pocket,  if  we  want  to  find  your  late 
lamented  rival.     I  have  spoken." 

"But  we  must  find  her!*'  Isyl  cried.  "I  can't 
bear  it,  this  stealing  all  her  fun!  She's  the 
Queen  by  rights,  and  if  no  one  else  can  find  her,  I 
will!" 

"  With  little  Tommy,  of  course  ? "  he  inquired 
"  Meaning  me." 

"  Oh,  if  you  would  help  me !  We  can  go  to 
morrow  morning,  for  the  parade  doesn't  start  till 
two.  If  we  can  only  find  a  clew ! " 

"  I'll  call  for  you  at  eight,"  said  the  red-headed 
youth,  "and  I'll  bring  a  microscope  and  a  fine- 
toothed  comb.  We'll  go  through  the  town,  and 
let  no  guilty  man  escape ! " 

Isyl  started  to  give  him  back  the  ring. 

"No,  keep  it,"  he  said.  "We'll  talk  about  that, 
to-morrow.  I'll  have  to  resign  in  favour  of  our 
friend,  little  Cosy-corner  Willie,  the  Human  Pork 
Chop,  for  I  must  hence.  I  haven't  arranged  the 
hour  for  the  sun  to  rise  to-morrow,  and  I  mustn't 
disappoint  so  many  trusting  people.  Farewell,  O 
Queen ! " 

He  left,  Isyl  following  him  with  her  eyes  and  a 
167] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ISYL 
smile.     But  her    expression  faded,  as  the  Grand 
Commander,  seeing  her  alone,  reappeared. 

He  did  indeed  look  like  a  pork  chop,  with  his 
brown,  well-done  beard,  and  his  pink,  rare  cheeks, 
and  the  metaphor  cheered  Isyl  almost  to  another 
smile.  The  Grand  Commander  kindled  under  its 
kindly,  tolerant  influence. 

"Miss  Almeric,"  he  said,  "was  the  Queen  of 
Diamonds,  but  you,  Miss  Isyl,  are  the  Queen  of 
Hearts!" 

"  Tell  me,  Queen  of  Hearts,*'  he  went  on,  see 
ing  the  smile  deepen  and  reaching  unsuccessfully  for 
her  hand,  "if  a  man  of  not  too  displeasing  an 
exterior,  of  a  cultivated  and  refined  mind,  a  faith 
ful  character  and  assured  position  in  the  community, 
should  ask  you  to  become  your  King  of  Hearts — 

let  me  state  a  hypothetical  case — what  would  you 

v 
say? 

Now  the  number  of  similar  cautious  proposals 
he  had  made  to  the  girls  of  San  Jose,  was  a  part 
of  the  history  of  the  city,  and  Isyl  had  small  com 
punction  in  taking  him  lightly. 

"  I  suppose  I'd  say,"  she  said,  watching  the  door, 
"  that  you'd  make  a  better  Knave.    Is  this  the  only 
trick  you  ever  tried  to  take  ?  " 
[68] 


THE  GRAND  COMMANDER 

"  Ah,  the  only  one  I  ever  really  cared  to  win," 
he  answered  soulfully,  "  except  perhaps  one  other. 
That  was  a  sincere,  but  foolish  fancy,  and  I  was 
cruelly,  basely  deceived.  If  I  may  carry  out  the 
metaphor,  the  King  was  playing  against  marked 
cards." 

"  Yes,"  said  Isyl  absently,  "  so  you  have  been  in 
love  before,  have  you  ?  " 

"  I  feel,  I  know,"  he  replied,  "  that  I  can  be  sure 
of  your  sympathy  if  I  confide  to  you  the  history  of 
the  most  lacerating  episode  of  my  life." 

And  without  waiting  for  further  encouragement 
he  began 

The  S/orp  of  the  Grand  Commander 

THE  TEACHER'S  PET 

Or,  Love  Juvenile 

1HAVE  usually  made  it  a  point,  in  my  teach 
ing,  never  to  form  social  relations  with  my  pu 
pils.      It   sadly   interferes    with    discipline;   it 
makes  talk.      A  schoolmaster  has  to  be  circum 
spect,  and  many  of  the  little  joys  of  life  are  denied 
him.     But  a  man  has  to  make  a  certain  number 
of  mistakes  before  he  learns  the  truth  of  this,  and 
my  own  experience  was,  I   must  confess,  embar- 
[69] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ISYL 
rassing,  if  not  painful.     It  occurred  while  I  was  a 
teacher  of  Latin  in  the  Petaluma  High  School. 

Amongst  my  pupils  in  the  senior  class  was  a 
girl  of  seventeen  named  Rowena  Philbrick.  She 
was  an  innocent,  fresh  looking  young  thing,  with 
big  blue  eyes  and  white  teeth  and  a  merry  smile 
that  always  seemed  perfectly  ingenuous.  When 
ever  I  caught  her  covertly  looking  at  me,  I  am  sure 
I  blushed,  for  really,  she  was  quite  a  distracting 
person.  I  was  younger  then,  and  more  susceptible. 
I  may  say  I  lacked  discrimination,  not  to  speak 
of  knowledge  of  human  nature,  and,  in  especial, 
women.  Though,  indeed,  as  Pope  says, 

"  Woman  s  at  best  a  contradiction  still !  " 

I  was,  as  I  said,  young  and  impressionable.  I 
was  not,  I  might  add,  as  discreet  as  an  instructor 
should  be.  Rowena's  beauty  attracted  me  and  I 
began  soon  to  be  interested  in  her.  It  seems 
absurd,  now,  that  I  should  have  allowed  myself  to 
be  cajoled  by  such  a  mere  chit  with  pink  cheeks, 
but  at  the  time  I  was  sure  that  I  was  seriously 
smitten.  Of  course,  you  must  understand  the 
attachment  was  gradual.  I  am  not  naturally 
impetuous  or  reckless,  and  I  was  exceedingly  care- 
[70] 


THE  GRAND  COMMANDER 
ful  to  do  nothing  whatever  to  arouse  gossip.  I 
was  very  guarded,  too,  in  my  first  offers  of  friend 
ship,  to  be  sure  that  such  feelings  would  be  recip 
rocated.  I  sounded  her  and  found  that  I  was  not, 
upon  the  whole,  unattractive  to  her. 

I  began  by  keeping  her  after  school  occasionally, 
ostensibly  for  the  purpose  of  giving  advice  in  her 
Latin  syntax,  upon  which  point  she  was  lamentably 
weak,  and  also  to  stimulate  her  desire  for  higher 
scholarship,  for  she  was  of  but  mediocre  intellectual 
endowments,  I  am  afraid.  These  little  talks  were 
so  pleasant  that  we  soon  became  quite  jolly  friends, 
and  I  could  see  that  the  privilege  of  enjoying  my 
society  was  appreciated  by  this  little  country  girl, 
as  a  new  and  fascinating  interest  in  her  life. 

Occasionally,  too,  I  permitted  myself  to  walk 
home  with  Rowena,  amusing  her  with  some  of  those 
delightful  jests  from  "Coleridge's  Table  Talk," 
or  "  Eighteenth  Century  Wit  and  Humour."  She 
was  always  responsive,  often  slightly  too  much  so, 
laughing  immoderately  at  things  that,  to  me,  seemed, 
at  best,  but  mildly  amusing.  Poor  little  thing !  I 
suppose  the  opportunity  for  truly  intellectual  com 
radeship  with  a  highly  cultivated  man  slightly 
bewildered  her  with  excitement 
[71] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ISYL 
On  Sunday  afternoons,  I  made  it  my  habit  to 
call  upon  Rowena,  and  we  spent  many  a  happy 
hour  upon  her  piazza  together,  while  her  mother 
slept  in  an  East  Indian — or  is  it  a  Ceylon? — rat 
tan  chair.  I  would  read  selections  from  Dry  den's 
fascinating  satires,  or,  for  lighter  and  more  relaxing 
enjoyment,  "The  Lady  of  the  Lake."  Rowena 
would  lie  in  her  hammock,  a  perfect  picture  of 
youthful  charm,  reminding  me  often  of  Shelley's 

lines: 

"  A  Zove/p  la Jj>,  garmented  in  light 
From  her  own  beauty." 

Her  mind,  though  unformed,  was  eager  and 
impressionable,  and  my  own  commentaries  upon 
obscure  passages  or  obsolescent  references  enliv 
ened  an  association  which  was,  on  my  part,  becom 
ing  daily  more  serious  and  heartfelt.  She  was 
often  reticent  and  dreamy  at  these  meetings,  and 
frequently  her  young  mind  wandered  in  maiden 
meditation  fancy-free,  as  the  Bard  of  Avon  says. 
Her  mother  always  awoke  as  soon  as  our  talk 
became  more  frivolous,  for  I  did  not  care  to  make 
the  conversation  unvaryingly  scholastic.  Her  glee 
when  I  permitted  myself  to  indulge  in  persiflage  or 
puns,  at  such  times,  was  a  pleasant  stimulus  to  my 
[72] 


THE  GRAND  COMMANDER 
wit,  for  some  of  my  stories  were,  if  I  say  it  myself, 
subtle  and  amusing,  without  ever  condescending  to 
the  coarse  humour  that  the  common  country  youth 
indulged  in.  Indeed,  she  would  often  go  so  far  in 
her  relish  of  such  fancies  as  to  request  me  to 
repeat  some  favourite  anecdote  to  her  father  or 
elderly  relative. 

But  the  pathetic  lack  of  true  scholarship  annoyed 
me  excessively.  In  my  foolish  fondness  for  the 
young  Rowena,  I  fancied  that  I  might  kindle  her 
pride  in  her  work  by  occasionally  marking  her 
recitations  slightly  higher  than  a  strict  estimate 
would  find  them  worth.  She  seemed  to  be  de 
lighted  by  these  gratuitous  credits,  and  her  parents 
expressed  themselves  as  being  pleased  to  find  her 
doing  so  well  in  the  class.  Sometimes,  too,  I  would 
give  her  hints  as  to  the  composition  of  an  English 
theme  to  be  handed  in,  hastily  sketching  the  sub 
ject  and  pointing  out  cross-references  easily  attain 
able,  and  then  she  would  look  at  me  with  her  blue, 
innocent  eyes  in  a  way  that  made  me,  I  admit  it 
frankly,  wish  to  embrace  her.  But  I  restrained 
myself,  and  never  gave  anyone  the  slightest  chance 
to  question  my  behaviour.  My  friendship  with 
Rowena  was,  to  the  last,  Platonic. 
[73] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ISYL 

At  times  she  asked  me  in  regard  to  the  ques 
tions  I  intended  propounding  on  the  morrow,  and, 
thinking  that  in  this  way  she  might  be  induced  to 
give  more  attention  to  her  studies  than  she  had 
done,  I  would  give  her  guarded  hints  as  to  my 
"  quizzes  "  and  invariably  found  that  she  had  been 
greatly  helped  in  her  work  thereby.  Encouraged 
by  this  sign  of  interest,  and  anxious  to  form  her 
mind  more  broadly,  in  the  pure  interests  of  her 
intellectual  life,  I  made  a  practice  of  ascertaining,  in 
a  roundabout  way,  the  questions  to  be  asked  by 
other  instructors  in  the  Chemistry  and  Mathematics 
examinations,  and  communicated  to  Rowena  their 
general  tenor.  I  was  glad  to  see  that,  owing  per 
haps  to  this  encouragement,  she  began  to  take  a 
sincere  interest  in  her  class  standing.  Despite  the 
fact  that,  by  this  time,  she  began  to  be  called,  in 
juvenile  derision,  "the  teacher's  pet,"  owing  to  a 
misapprehension  of  my  motives,  she  was  recognised 
as  one  of  the  leaders  of  the  senior  class. 

But  there  was  one  "  little  rift  within  the  lute  " — 
it  is  Tennyson,  I  believe,  who  so  expresses  it — that 
began  to  threaten  trouble.  There  was  in  the  class 
a  young  scapegrace  named  Oliver  Burne,  who  was 
a  menace  to  the  discipline  of  the  school,  and 
[74] 


THE  GRAND  COMMANDER 

thoroughly  unscrupulous  and  dishonest.  During  one 
of  the  first  weeks  of  term  I  caught  him  throwing 
water  in  the  school  yard,  although  such  rude  acts 
were  expressly  forbidden  by  a  rule  of  the  School 
principal !  On  another  occasion,  three  spheres,  kept 
for  the  use  of  the  drawing-classes,  disappeared 
mysteriously,  and,  although  I  could  not  prove  his 
guilt,  I  was  morally  certain  that  the  Burne  boy 
had  stolen  them.  I  mention  these  ungentlemanly 
violations  of  discipline  only  to  show  how  unprin 
cipled  he  was,  for  there  was  never  the  slightest 
personal  animus  on  my  part.  Most  of  his  infrac 
tions  were  so  cleverly  achieved  that  absolute  de 
tection  was  impossible.  He  was  a  rosy,  apple- 
cheeked  lad,  small  for  his  age,  and  no  one,  to  look 
at  him,  would  believe  so  innocent-appearing  a  boy, 
could  be,  at  heart,  so  malicious  and  depraved. 

Singularly  enough,  as  I  thought  at  the  time, 
Oliver  Burne's  scholarship  was  above  reproach. 
The  correctness  of  his  examination  papers  surprised 
me.  They  were  often  as  superior  as  Rowena's.  In 
simple  justice,  I  could  not  fail  to  mark  him  "  passed," 
and  even  "  passed  with  credit,"  for  justice  has  al 
ways  been  the  keynote  of  my  teaching.  I  could, 
however,  call  the  attention  of  the  principal  to  his 
[75] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ISYL 
uniform  bad  conduct,  although  it  was  seldom  that  I 
could  point  out  any  one  overt  act  that  was  against 
the  rules,  and  had  to  be  guided  rather  by  what  I 
knew  of  the  boy's  evil  character  than  by  visible 
proof  of  his  misconduct.  In  retaliation,  he  inaugu 
rated  a  series  of  petty  annoyances  that  tortured  my 
nerves.  I  did  my  best  to  induce  the  principal  to 
expel  the  lad,  but  influence  was  brought  to  bear 
which  made  that  impossible.  The  politics  and 
corruption  in  the  country  schools  is  sometimes  past 
belief. 

The  horrid  term  "  teacher's  pet "  which  was 
applied  to  Rowena  had  its  compensations.  It  set 
us  two  off  against  the  world  and  cemented  a  grow 
ing  friendship.  I  could  wait,  for  she  was  yet  quite 
young,  and,  at  any  rate,  I  did  not  care  to  become 
engaged  to  her  until  the  Summer  vacation  had 
begun.  I  planned  to  resign  then,  and,  taking  my 
young  bride  to  some  other  place,  find,  in  a  re 
mote  and  quiet  school  district,  a  peaceful  married 
future. 

The  final  examinations,   closing  the  term,  ap 
proached.     And  then  came  one  of  those  depress 
ing  outbreaks  of    juvenile  depravity  which  occur, 
occasionally,  in  even  the  best  regulated  schools. 
[76] 


THE  GRAND  COMMANDER 

The  teacher  of  Botany  was  an  elderly  female 
named  Miss  Marietta  Byles,  and  I  may  say  that  she 
was  justly  unpopular.  She  had  already  antagonised 
me  by  complaining  to  the  principal,  in  a  fit  of  jeal 
ousy,  of  my  intimacy  with  Miss  Rowena  Philbrick, 
a  matter  quite  without  her  jurisdiction.  That  fact 
alone  is  an  index  to  the  narrowness  of  her  char 
acter.  Her  complexion  was,  when  not  concealed 
beneath  cosmetics,  somewhat  turbid,  if  I  may  ex 
press  myself  that  way,  and  she  had  been  favoured 
by  her  pupils  with  the  expressive,  if  insulting  sobri 
quet  "Mud-faced  Moll." 

This  nickname,  admirably  lettered  in  red  paint, 
now  began  to  be  discovered  in  the  most  improb 
able  places.  It  appeared  on  the  blackboards  of 
the  Assembly  room  to-day,  and  to-morrow  in  shock 
ing  distinctness  upon  the  school  steps,  and  had  to  be 
removed  by  an  arduous  day's  work  with  a  cold- 
chisel.  "  Mud-faced  Moll  "  was  found  painted  on 
the  front  of  the  principal's  desk,  on  the  flagging  of 
the  school  yard,  and  finally  upon  every  one  of  a 
dozen  new  maps  stored  in  the  attic.  All  efforts  to 
ascertain  the  identity  of  the  culprit  were  unavail 
ing,  although  the  principal  kept  the  entire  school 
after  hours,  and  questioned  each  pupil  in  turn,  in- 
[77] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ISYL 

dividually  and  alone.  Miss  Byles's  mortification 
was  so  hysterical  that  she  actually  had  the  hardi 
hood  to  accuse  me  of  perpetrating  the  outrages. 
Had  it  not  been  for  this,  I  could  have  been  almost 
amused  at  the  ridiculousness  of  the  farce. 

But  a  new  interest  now  came  to  drive  the  sub 
ject  from  my  mind.  The  scholarship  averages 
were  computed,  and  it  was  discovered  to  my  delight 
that  Rowena  led,  and  was  thereby  entitled  to  the 
valedictory  at  the  graduating  exercises.  I  saw  in 
this  the  opportunity  of  doing  her  a  service.  As  she 
had  no  particular  literary  bent,  while  my  own  talents 
have  always  been  in  that  direction,  I  spent  several 
nights  in  composing  a  valedictory  paper  for  her 
that  should  mark  an  epoch  in  the  history  of  the 
Petaluma  High  School.  Rowena  was  overjoyed 
to  find  herself  relieved  of  a  necessity  which  had 
been  somewhat  dreaded. 

The  day  before  graduation,  a  teachers'  meeting 
was  called  to  give  the  final  approval  to  the  candi 
dates  for  diplomas.  I  had  made  a  strong  effort  to 
prevent  Oliver  Burne  from  graduating,  feeling  that 
it  would  be  a  blot  on  the  high  standard  of  the 
school  to  have  such  a  young  reprobate  dismissed 
honourably.  I  was  in  my  room  formulating  my 
[78] 


THE  GRAND  COMMANDER 

argument  on  this  point  and  summarising  the  details 
of  his  misconduct,  when  Rowena  came  to  me. 

"If  you  go  up  to  the  map-room  immediately," 
she  said,  "you  may  catch  the  boy  who  has  been 
painting  the  signs  about  the  building ! " 

I  was  surprised,  but  went  at  once  up-stairs  and 
mounted  the  ladder  to  the  unfinished  attic,  where 
the  maps  were  kept.  I  was  looking  about,  seeing 
no  one,  when  my  attention  was  called  to  a  noise 
below.  The  Burne  boy  was  removing  the  ladder ! 

"  Burne,"  I  called  to  him,  "  replace  that  ladder 
instantly,  sir ! "  He  mocked  me  in  the  most  impu 
dent  manner. 

"  What'll  you  give  me,  if  I'll  let  you  go?"  he 
said,  making  a  rude  gesture. 

The  supreme  impertinence  of  his  demand  fairly 
stifled  me.     I  was  surprised;    more  than   that- 
shocked  ! 

"  Burne,  I  shall  attend  to  your  case  as  soon  as  I 
get  down,"  I  warned  him  sternly.  I  confess  my 
attitude  at  the  time  was  undignified,  almost  ridicu 
lous,  for  there  were  no  floor-boards  and  I  had 
trouble  balancing  on  the  rafters. 

Instead  of  answering  me,  the  little  fiend  drew  out 
a  manuscript  and  began  to  read,  beginning  with  a 
[79] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ISYL 
melodramatic  style  that  grieved  and  wounded  me 
more  than  I  can  say. 

"  Standing  as  we  do,  to-day,  upon  the  threshold 
of  a  new  career,  the  sweet  old  days  of  childhood 
not  yet  quite  gone,  the  mysterious  duties  of  man 
hood  and  womanhood  not  yet  quite  come,  let  us 
face  once  again  the  memories  of  dear  school-life, 
and  then  make  up  our  minds  to  go  out  into  the 
world  and  do  our  part  in  advancing  the  noblest 
standards  of  right  and  truth  that  we  learned  here, 
in  this  well-loved  place."  The  boy's  inflection  and 
gesticulation  were  outrageous,  and  I  shuddered  to 
hear  my  own  literary  efforts  so  horribly  and  wil 
fully  distorted.  For,  need  I  say  that  he  had  in  his 
possession  the  valedictory  that  I  had  just  written 
for  Rowena  Philbrick?  It  was  painful  beyond 
words  to  my  shrinking  susceptibilities,  for  I  am  fool 
ishly  sensitive. 

"  Rowena  likes  the  paper,  fine ! "  the  young 
scamp  declared.  "  I  desire  to  thank  you,  Mr. 
Ardley,  for  the  great  assistance  you  have  given  me, 
through  Rowena."  He  then  went  on,  with  insuffer 
able  mock-politeness,  "We  have  both  enjoyed  your 
tips  on  the  examination  papers  very  much.  It  has 
been  a  great  help.  In  fact  without  your  invaluable 
[80] 


THE  GRAND  COMMANDER 
aid,  I  doubt  if  I  would  be  able  to  graduate.     As 
it  is,  I  stand  number  four ! " 

"  You  will  never  graduate  from  this  school,  young 
man,"  I  said.  "  I'll  attend  to  that  at  teachers'  meet 
ing  to-day." 

"  Yes,  and  give  yourself  away ! "  he  cried. 
"  Do  you  want  me  to  tell  Mr.  Briggs  how  you've 
been  helping  Rowena  ?  Do  you  mind  if  I  show 
him  this  paper  ?  " 

The  brutality  of  his  plot  now  struck  me  with  a 
pang  of  anguish.  How  could  I  ever  explain 
that,  in  helping  Rowena,  I  had  been  prompted 
only  by  affection  and  a  desire  for  her  best  welfare  ? 
Technically,  I  had  violated  the  etiquette  of  my  pro 
fession,  although  it  had  been  done  only  with  the 
loftiest  motives.  I  measured  the  distance  to  the 
floor.  It  was  altogether  too  far  to  risk  jumping.  I 
was  as  much  at  the  boy's  mercy  as  if  I  were  tied  to 
an  Apache  stake.  But  the  worst  was  yet  to  come. 

"  Now  you  get  busy,  Ardie,  and  do  what  I  tell 
you,  or  I'll  call  Mr.  Briggs  and  give  the  whole  thing 
away.  There's  a  pot  of  red  paint  up  there.  See 
it?  You  just  take  it  and  paint  '  Mud-faced  Moll ' 
on  that  biggest  map  of  the  United  States !  Hurry 
up,  now ! " 

181] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ISYL 

I  .hesitated ;  yet,  after  all,  what  could  I  do  ? 

"Here  comes  Mr.  Briggs!  Shall  I  call  him 
in  ?  "  he  asked. 

There  was  no  other  way.  I  picked  up  a  brush, 
reeking  with  carmine,  and,  as  slowly  as  I  could,  I 
began  to  letter  the  abominable  words  upon  the 
varnished  surface  of  the  map. 

"Faster,  please,"  said  Burne.     I  obeyed. 

At  that  moment,  the  principal,  who  had  been 
looking  for  me  to  attend  the  teachers'  meeting,  came 
up-stairs.  I  did  not  hear  him,  but  the  boy  Burne 
did,  and  rapidly  climbed  out  the  window  and  hid 
on  the  fire-escape.  I  went  on  painting,  in  a  trance 
of  sickening  despair,  when  Mr.  Briggs  entered  the 
hallway  and  discovered  me,  just  as  I  was  putting 
the  final  letters  on  the  disgusting  epithet, "  Mud- 
faced  Moll."  It  was  one  of  the  most  painful 
moments  of  my  life. 

Pardon  me  if  I  do  not  describe  my  interview 
with  him,  which  was  witnessed  by  Burne,  through 
the  window ;  a  fact  which  greatly  added  to  my  dis 
comfort.  I  could  not,  of  course,  explain,  and,  for 
the  good  name  of  the  school,  I  was  permitted  to 
resign  and  the  matter  was  kept  confidential.  I  have 
heard  that  subsequently  the  Petaluma  "  Gazette " 
[82] 


THE  GRAND  COMMANDER 

published  a  garbled  account  of  the  affair  at  the 
time  Rowena  and  Burne  were  married. 

Oliver  Burne  graduated,  of  course,  but  even  that 
fact  was  not  so  harrowing  to  my  feelings  as  to  have 
to  sit  with  the  faculty  of  the  school,  upon  the  plat 
form  of  the  assembly  hall,  and  hear  that  pretty, 
innocent-looking  girl,  scarcely  more  than  a  child, 
read  her  paper.  She  concluded  with  the  follow 
ing  words,  my  own  words,  looking  unblushingly  in 
my  direction. 

"  Above  all,  let  us  remember  that  the  faith  we 
place  in  our  friends  is  the  keystone  of  all  that  is 
noblest  and  best  in  life,  and  that  what  we  do  for 
others  will  be  a  sustaining  influence  through  the 
worst  of  life's  vicissitudes  and  trials/* 

"  O  sacra  fama  amoris,  quis  non  mortalia 
pectora  coges !  " 


[83] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ISYL 

IV 
THE  COMBAT 

fl  HOW  Sir  Tomas  the  Scalawag  with  Queen 
quested  for  La  !Qeale  Norine  and  did  battle  with  a 
knight.  Hoto  the  Grand  Commander  was  unhorsed, 
and  the  Queen  met  a  hermit  in  a  wood :  The  Tale  of 
Love  Militant. 

IT  was  a  May  day  of  that  entrancing  blue  which 
comes  to  California  skies  after  the  last  rains, 
bringing  with  it  the  assurance  of  continued 
fair  weather,  when  the  two  adventurers  set  out  on 
their  quest  for  Norine.  The  meadow  larks  sang  in 
the  fields,  and  Isyl  sang  too,  snatches  of  song,  quite 
as  prettily.  Something  new  and  fresh  and  glad 
had  come  into  her  eyes  since  last  night.  She 
looked  slyly  at  her  companion  and  tried  little  wiles 
to  make  him  laugh.  He  needed  small  urging,  and 
every  smile  sank  deeper  into  her  heart. 

So  they  sped,  in  a  furious  little  automobile  run 
about,  over   the  level  roads  of   the  Santa  Clara 
Valley,  through  miles  of  ripening  orchards.     To 
the  east  the  Coast  Range  culminated  in  the  peak 
[84] 


THE  COMBAT 

of  Mount  Hamilton,  and,  through  the  clear,  vibrant 
air,  a  white  speck,  the  dome  of  the  Lick  Observa 
tory,  glimmered  like  a  daystar. 

"  It's  absurd  that  I  don't  even  know  your  name 
yet,"  Isyl  had  begun. 

"  What's  in  a  name  ?  "  he  answered.  "  Noth 
ing  but  a  collection  of  letters,  like  a  post-office. 
Mine  happens  to  be  Thomas  Bell  Parrish.  Have 
you  any  objections  to  the  sound  of  it  ?  " 

"  No,  idiot.  But  who  are  you,  and  where  did 
you  come  from  ?  " 

"  I  am  an  obscure  but  handsome  adventurer 
come  to  this  your  sovereign  court  to  gain  worship 
and  serve  beauty.  I  am  doing  the  Launcelot  act, 
and  as  you  were  the  first  damsel  in  distress  I  hap 
pened  to  meet,  I  rescued  you  as  per  custom  of 
knights-errant." 

"  Only  because  I  happened  to  be  the  first  ?  " 

"  And  because  you'll  happen  to  be  the  last." 

"  When  did  you  see  me  first  ?  " 

"  In  a  dream.  And  that's  no  De  Quincey  yarn," 
the  youth  asserted. 

"Mince  pie,  or  Welsh  rarebit?"  she  asked, 
playfully. 

"  Wedding  cake !  "  he  answered. 
[85] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ISYL 

Isyl  grew  suddenly  silent. 

"  I've  seen  you  since,"  he  added,  "  on  the  hard, 
matter-of-fact  macadam  of  San  Jose.  You  were 
in  white  pique,  or  words  to  that  effect,  and  from 
that  moment  I  date  my  decline  and  fall.  I  would 
have  said  then  that  you  were  the  penultimate  limit, 
if  anybody  had  driven  up  in  a  hansom-cab  and 
asked  me.  The  rest  is  faery." 

"  It's  all  remarkably  vague,"  said  Isyl,  "  there's 

no   use   trying   to   get   anything    sensible   out   of 

i " 
you! 

"  How  about  rings  ?  "  he  suggested,  wickedly. 

She  started  to  draw  off  her  glove,  but  he 
stopped  her. 

"  Remember,  it's  wished  on ! " 

"It's  awfully  like  one  I've  seen  before,  but  I 
can't  recall  where." 

"  It's  paid  for,"  he  remarked. 

"  How  long  is  it  wished  on  for  ?  "  Isyl  asked. 

"  Till  I  get  my  wish,  of  course.  But  you  must 
wear  it  as  long  as  you  are  Queen,  anyway." 

"  That  won't  be  long,  for  we  simply  must  find 
Norine  Almeric.  How  are  you  going  to  do  it? 
Have  you  a  clew  yet  ?  " 

"All  the  Sherlock  Holmes  in  me  suggests  de- 
[86] 


THE  COMBAT 

ducing  her  whereabouts.  It  looks  dead  easy  in 
books ;  let's  get  in  and  deduct  things.  You  said 
you  heard  a  hack  drive  away  from  the  Pavilion 
about  the  time  she  escaped.  Then  why  not  try  the 
livery  stables  and  apply  the  third  degree  to  the 
proprietors  thereof.  The  best  one,  I  believe,  is 
Harrison's.  We're  almost  there." 

"I'll  wager  they  won't  tell  you  anything,"  said 
Isyl. 

"  Taken,"  he  replied.     "  What'll  you  bet  ?  " 

"  My  handkerchief ! "  she  said,  and  smiled. 

Tom  Parrish  smiled,  too,  for  he  had  not  yet 
returned  the  Queen's  favour.  They  were  soon  in 
town  and  stopped  before  Harrison's  stable.  A 
hostler  came  out,  and  looked  hard  at  Tom  Parrish, 
for  that  young  man  was  winking  furiously. 

"  I  say,  did  you  rent  a  cab  last  night  to  call  at 
the  Pavilion  at  eight  ?  " 

"  Nope ! "  said  the  man. 

"  Yes,  you  did.     Where  did  it  go  to  ?  " 

"  Dunno." 

"  Guess ! "  said  Tom,  nodding  behind  Isyl's 
back. 

"  Seems  to  me  they  was  a  carriage  drove  out  to 
Golcher's  place." 

[87] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ISYL 

"  Who  was  in  it  ?  "  the  Queen  demanded,  find 
ing  information  so  readily  obtained.  But  she  did 
not  see  a  red  head  shaking  violently. 

"  Dunno,"  said  the  hostler.  "  The  driver's  off 
to-day.'* 

Tom  handed  him  a  dollar  and  turned  the  lever 
of  his  machine.  "  Do  I  win  ?  "  he  asked  Isyl. 

"  I'm  afraid  you  do,"  she  admitted.  "  But  he 
acted  funny,  it  seems  to  me." 

"  Well  then,"  said  Tom  Parrish,  "  in  the  merry 
days  of  the  Round  Table  and  such  pipe-dreams, 
when  the  Queen  presented  a  token,  like  this  hand 
kerchief  here  in  my  inside  pocket,  she  usually 
promised  forgiveness  for  anything,  when  it  was 
refunded.  How  about  that  ?  " 

"  You  find  Norine  Almeric  before  the  Fiesta  is 
over  and  I'll  give  you  anything  you  ask  for,"  she 
said,  recklessly,  and  could  have  bitten  her  tongue 
out,  the  next  minute. 

"  I'll  just  write  that  down,  and  you'll  kindly  sign 
it,"  he  said,  and  actually  produced  a  small  note 
book.  She  made  some  delicious  objections,  but 
wrote  the  words,  signing  them,  "  Isyl,  Regina." 

They  sped  westward  through  the  warm  sunshine, 
as  gay  as  squirrels,  until,  just  before  they  reached 
[88] 


THE  COMBAT 

the  road  leading  to  Golcher's,  they  saw  a  white 
horse  approaching  them. 

"  I  know  that  mare,"  Isyl  remarked,  "  it's  Ray 
Ardley's." 

"  Who  is  he  ?  "  Tom  asked. 

"He's  the  Worshipful  Grand  Commander  of 
the  Knight  Companions  of  the  Golden  Gate,  when 
he  has  his  white  trousers  on.  And  he  has  a  fool 
ish  idea  that  I'm  his  own  and  particular  property." 

"  I'll  joust  with  him  for  that  right,"  quoth  the 
youth.  "  A  man  with  a  tag  like  that  ought  to  be 
good  killing !  He  seems  to  be  bound  our  way." 

The  Grand  Commander  turned  into  Golcher's 
road  just  ahead  of  them,  and  then  slowed  down 
somewhat,  with  a  seeming  intent  to  impede  their 
progress.  It  was  a  narrow  lane  with  ditches  on 
either  side,  running  between  apricot  orchards. 
With  an  occasional  glance  over  his  shoulder  and  a 
bit  of  jockeying,  the  schoolmaster  for  a  while  pre 
vented  the  automobile  from  passing  him.  The 
Parrish  blood  began  to  rise  to  Tom's  cheeks.  He 
took  hold  of  the  lever  more  firmly  and  said  to  Isyl, 
"  Do  you  object  to  my  forcing  the  game  a  little  ? 
He  seems  to  be  the  prize  Berkshire  hog." 

"  Not  at  all,"  she  answered.     "  I  don't  particu- 
[89] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ISYL 
larly  care  to  take  his  dust.     He  doesn't  seem  to  like 
you  very  much.     I  suppose  he  hasn't  forgiven  you 
for  interrupting  his  flirtation  with  me.     Let's  speak 
to  him,  but  there's  no  use  of  having  any  trouble." 

Tom  urged  his  machine  a  bit  faster,  and  turned 
to  the  right.  The  Grand  Commander  turned  also, 
in  time  to  head  him  off. 

"  Are  you  going  to  let  us  pass  ?  "  Tom  inquired. 
"  Make  way  for  the  Queen,  please !  " 

The  Grand  Commander  turned  and  bowed  as 
if  he  had  not  seen  them  before.  "Good  morning, 
Miss  Isyl,"  he  said,  and  then  to  Parrish,  "I  have 
as  much  right  on  this  road  as  you  have,  and  if  you 
want  to  pass  me,  go  ahead ! " 

"  You  look  out  for  a  rear-end  collision,  then,  if 
you  don't  turn  out,  my  friend  with  the  polysyllabic 
alias,  or  I'll  plough  you  off  the  road ! " 

"  Push  ahead !  "  was  the  answer.  "  I  don't 
intend  to  take  any  more  of  your  impertinence,  sir. 
I'm  sorry  for  you,  Miss  Shea,  that  you  have  to 
associate  with  a  jackanapes  like  this  and  gad  about 
in  a  mechanical  toy,  but  you  seem  to  prefer  his 
company  to  mine,  and  you'll  have  to  take  the  con 
sequences,  I  suppose."  And  he  jogged  on. 

"That'll  be  about  all  for  preliminaries,"  Tom 
[90] 


THE  COMBAT 

Parrish  muttered,  "and  I'll  now  conceal  the  hand 
of  iron  beneath  the  glove  of  dogskin.  Look  out  for 
your  hind  wheels ! "  he  announced,  and  gave  the 
handle  a  sharp  twist. 

The  machine  leaped  forward  with  a  jerk  and 
carried  the  light  piano-box  buggy  several  yards 
with  it,  while  Isyl  held  to  the  seat  in  fright.  The 
schoolmaster's  horse  braced  doggedly  on  his 
haunches,  and  the  shafts  snapped.  At  this,  the 
mare  bolted,  the  Grand  Commander  swearing 
volubly  at  her  heels.  The  pair  soon  parted  com 
pany,  however,  and  the  last  seen  of  them  was  two 
blackish  spots  diminishing  toward  the  far  end  of 
the  orchard,  the  mare  galloping  like  a  frolicsome 
cow,  and  the  Commander  in  hot  pursuit. 

"  It  was  a  Sunday  newspaper  kind  of  a  joke," 
Tom  admitted,  "  and  hardly  the  sort  of  humour  to 
appeal  to  the  refined  tastes  of  a  Fiesta  Queen ;  but 
the  best  way  to  conquer  temptation  is  to  yield  to  it, 
I've  found ! "  He  tried  to  start  the  automobile 
again,  now,  but,  its  work  having  been  so  well  done, 
it  rested. 

"I  expect  there's  a  reverse  side  to  our  little 
prank,"  he  said  to  Isyl. 

While  the  Queen  remained  on  the  seat,  Tom 
[91] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ISYL 
puttered  underneath  the  car  with  a  monkey-wrench, 
but  to  no  avail.    The  rear  axle  was  sprung  out  of  all 
but  a  machinist's  help  and  the  chain  was  broken. 

"  But  we  must  get  back  by  one  o'clock,"  Isyl 
gasped,  "  otherwise  there'll  be  no  Queen !  What 
are  we  going  to  do  ?  " 

Tom  rubbed  his  head.  "  Haven't  you  an 
understudy  ready  ? "  he  said.  "  If  they  started 
with  a  full  deck,  there  ought  to  be  two  queens  left 
to  take  the  next  trick.  But  you'll  ride  through 
town  on  a  float,  yet !  Where's  the  nearest  tele 
phone  ?  " 

"  There's  a  cabin  over  there  in  the  apricots," 
said  Isyl,  pointing.  "  I  don't  know  what  it  is,  but 
we  might  try  there." 

They  walked  into  the  orchard  and  knocked  at 
the  door.  It  was  opened  by  a  young  man  with  a 
pointed  beard,  arrayed  in  brown  denim.  They 
explained  the  shipwreck  to  him. 

"  Why,  I've  got  a  line  to  the  ranch,  and  they'll 
probably  telephone  a  message  to  the  city  for  you," 
he  said.  "  Come  in ! " 

They  entered  the  single  room  of  the  cabin  and 
he  rang  up  the  ranch  for  them.     The  proprietor 
promised  to  send  for  assistance.    While  Isyl  looked 
[92] 


THE  COMBAT 

about   at   the    photographs    on   the   walls,    Tom 
addressed  the  man  in  denim. 

"See  here,"  he  said,  finally,  "haven't  I  seen 
you  before  ?  Aren't  you  Jeggins,  Stanford,  '95  ?  " 

"  Yes,  that's  right.  And  who  are  you,  anyway, 
if  you  don't  mind." 

"  Parrish,  '97,  of  course.  Hadn't  my  name  and 
fame  arisen  when  you  joined  the  great  majority  of 
square  heads  ?  Think  of  that ! " 

"Seems  to  me  I  did  hear  of  the  limit  of  fresh 
ness  having  been  reached  about  that  time,"  the 
stranger  remarked  with  fraternal  jest ;  "  let's  see — 
hundred  yard  dash,  wasn't  it  ?  " 

"  No,  I'm  no  sprinter ;  the  half-mile  is  my  dis 
tance.  I  shaved  2.03  when  I  was  a  Soph." 

"  Did  you  ever  hear  of  Parson  Jones  ?  "  Jeggins 
asked. 

"  Sure ;  what  about  him  ?" 

"  Why,  the  fact  is,  he's  been  stopping  here  with 
me  for  a  week  or  so,  and  last  night  he  didn't  show 
up,  that's  all.  You  see  I'm  the  foreman  of  this 
ranch,  and  I  bunk  alone  except  when  he  shares  my 
humble  hearth.  I'm  reading  law  on  the  side. 
Jones  is  a  cub  preacher,  and  what  you  might  call 
a  professor  of  muscular  Christianity.  I'm  afraid 
[93] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ISYL 
there's  been  a  fight  somewhere.     I'm  wondering 
if  he  could  have  been  at  it  again." 

"A  scrap,  and  me  not  in  it?"  said  Parrish, 
hungrily. 

"Queer  kind  of  a  clergyman,"  Isyl  remarked; 
"  if  you  really  mean  that  you  think  he  has  been 
fighting." 

"Oh,  I  won't  say  that,"  Jeggins  explained.  "I 
expect  he's  all  over  that  by  now,  but  there  was  a 
time  when  he  wouldn't  have  been  far  away  from  a 
good  battle.  Remember  his  last  fight  at  Wood- 
side  ?  "  he  asked  of  Tom. 

"Remember?  Why,  I  invented  that  yarn," 
Tom  said,  grinning. 

"  It's  true ! "  protested  Jeggins. 

"Don't  mind  him,"  Isyl  broke  in,  "he's  crazy. 
I'm  treating  him  for  it.  Tell  me  about  it,  won't 
you  ?  " 

"  Go  ahead,"  Tom  added.  "  It'll  be  an  hour  or 
so  before  the  gasoline  sharp  shows  up  with  a  new 
steam-engine.  "  I'd  like  to  hear  how  the  story  has 
grown  and  multiplied ! " 

And  so,  while  Tom  Parrish  sat  beside  his 
Queen,  on  a  fruit  crate  in  the  cabin,  Mr.  Jeggins 
narrated 

[94] 


THE  COMBAT 

The  Story  of  the  Apricot  Rancher 

A  WOODSIDE  IDYL 

Or,  Love  Militant 

ABOUT  ten  miles  up  the  line  from  the 
Leland  Stanford  Jr.  University  lies  the 
little  town  of  Woodside,  where  an  over 
worked  student  may  forget  his  cares  in  the  joys 
of  rural  society.  When  rain  has  been  plenty  and 
crops  good,  the  farmers  of  the  county  gather  at 
Woodside  and  bring  their  girls.  Undergraduates 
occasionally  condescend  to  be  amongst  those  pres 
ent  and  they  are  strictly  in  it.  A  fellow  may  be  as 
homely  as  Parrish  here,  but  he  fries  eggs  if  he  comes 
from  the  University.  Cross-eyed  or  slow  in  the 
head,  it  makes  no  difference  if  he  wears  a  Junior  plug. 
The  Venus  of  Woodside,  in  my  time,  was 
Nellie  Hawkins.  She  certainly  was  a  winner. 
She  went  through  every  dance  in  the  county  that 
year  like  a  prairie  fire,  burning  men  up  right  and 
left.  Woodside  was  the  main  office  of  her  heart- 
cracking  establishment.  She  used  to  drive  to  the 
dances  with  her  old  father,  who  slept  in  the  dress 
ing  room  while  she  twirled.  When  she  got  ready 
[95] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ISYL 

to  go,  she'd  ring  him  up  all  rested  and  ready  for 
another  day's  work. 

Well,  they  gave  a  dance  at  Woodside  just  be 
fore  Thanksgiving  in  my  Freshman  year  and  a  lot 
of  us  went.  Nellie  was  there,  of  course,  and  look 
ing  dangerous.  In  my  young  innocence  I  laid  for 
her  and  prepared  for  victory  or  death.  I  got  the 
second  mazurka ;  then  I  located  the  third  waltz ; 
finally,  I  persuaded  her  to  cut  out  a  red-headed 
farmer,  who  had  the  last  lancers,  and  we  sailed 
down  the  hall,  the  social  success  of  the  occasion. 
But  I  rejoiced  too  early. 

We  were  whirling  around  on  "  grand  right  and 
left "  when  I  saw  the  red-headed  yap,  who  owned 
that  dance,  making  for  our  corner  of  the  hall.  I 
got  to  Nellie  just  then ;  we  stopped  and  swung  to 
our  place. 

"  You  see  that  fellow,"  she  said  to  me. 

"I  do,"  says  I;  "who  is  he?" 

"  He  thinks  he's  my  steady,"  she  says,  "  but  I 
ain't  so  sure.  There  are  others."  Then  she 
turned  her  azure  beads  on  me  and  I  perished  with 
joy. 

Just  then  the  farmer  got  there.     He  didn't  say  a 
word  to  her,  but  he  felt  of  my  arm. 
[96] 


THE  COMBAT 

"  Look  here,  young  fellow,"  he  says,  "  Yd  like  to 
see  you  outside  after  this  dance." 

"  You  ain't  afraid,  are  you  ?  "  she  says  when  he 
had  sloped. 

Well,  I  was.  A  man  with  the  ague  would 
have  seemed  liked  a  marble  statue  alongside  of  me. 
But  her  asking  that  way  settled  my  nerve.  I  was 
ready  to  die  game.  I  went  outside,  with  the  fel 
lows  to  see  fair  play,  and  we  mixed. 

I  have  always  maintained  that  I  hit  him  once; 
but  it  must  be  my  vanity,  for  no  one  else  saw  me 
score.  The  red-headed  yap  was  a  cyclone  on 
ball-bearings.  He  mauled  me  until  his  native  mercy 
asserted  itself.  Excuse  me  if  I  drop  the  veil.  The 
light  and  gayety  went  out  of  the  occasion  for  me. 
Nell  Hawkins  saw  what  was  left  of  me,  when  I  was 
getting  my  coat.  She  didn't  say  anything ;  she 
just  stood  off  and  gave  me  the  silvery  ha-ha.  It 
was  a  harsh  night  for  little  Edward. 

I  was  only  a  Freshman  then  and  I  realise  now 
with  a  chastened  sense  that  I  deserved  to  be  licked. 
But  it  everlastingly  got  to  me  at  the  time.  So,  for 
personal  vengance  and  the  glory  of  the  college,  I 
collaborated  with  the  composite  freshman  intellect 
and  we  struck  a  scheme.  It  involved  Parson  Jones. 
[97] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ISYL 
Besides  being  the  greatest  bucking  full-back  ever, 
Jones  had  the  pulpit  fever,  and  was  studying  for 
the  ministry.  No  one  ever  saw  how  he  could  play 
foot-ball.  He  looked  meek  and  serious,  and  was 
stoop-shouldered  and  not  very  big.  His  muscle 
didn't  show  much  through  his  clothes. 

His  chief  trouble  about  foot-ball  was  that  he 
would  naturally  sail  in  and  fight,  if  the  other  fellow 
played  dirty  ball,  and  this  used  to  bother  him  a  lot. 
One  time  in  a  match  game,  he  went  up  to  the 
referee  after  the  first  half  and  said,  "See  here, 
you'd  better  rule  me  off  the  gridiron.  I  struck 
that  quarter-back  without  provocation."  But  the 
referee  only  said,  "  I  didn't  see  it,  you  get  back  to 
your  position." 

There  was  one  year  he  swore  he  wouldn't  play 
at  all.  He  said  that  he  couldn't  keep  his  temper, 
once  it  got  started,  and  he  ought  to  avoid  tempta 
tion  if  he  ever  expected  to  preach.  It  took  the 
whole  college  to  get  him  into  the  eleven  again. 
But  we  had  to  keep  good  watch  on  him,  because 
we  knew  that  if  he  ever  got  started  to  slugging  in 
a  practice  game,  he  would  pull  out  for  the  season. 
The  second  team  went  in  that  year,  with  instruc 
tions  to  run  away  if  Jones  started  in  to  fight. 
[98] 


THE  COMBAT 

To  resume.  We  knew  that  the  Parson  would 
do  the  trick  for  us,  if  we  could  ever  drag  him  up 
to  Woodside  and  turn  him  loose  on  the  red-head 
ed  farmer.  But  it  took  considerable  scheming 
to  bring  it  off.  The  Committee  of  Investigation 
found,  however,  that  there  was  going  to  be  the 
biggest  time  of  the  year  at  Woodside  on  Christmas 
eve  and  that  the  Parson  wasn't  going  home  before 
the  holidays.  So  we  sent  "  Bug "  Rey  to  per 
suade  him. 

The  dancing  was  the  critical  point,  but  the  Bug 
told  him  that  if  he  was  going  to  preach  to  the 
farmers  he  ought  to  meet  them  in  their  hours  of 
recreation.  The  Parson  said  that  he  was  not 
opposed  to  dancing  in  general,  though  he  didn't 
think  it  seemly  for  the  clergy,  and  as  it  appeared 
to  be  innocent  and  respectable,  he  promised  to 
attend  the  entertainment. 

We  got  there  a  little  late;  things  were  going 
full  blast.  After  a  preliminary  scout,  we  put  the 
Parson  up  against  Nell  Hawkins  and  left  him  spiel 
ing  to  her.  Right  here  was  where  the  Steering 
Committee  got  in  its  keen  work.  We  butted  in 
and  made  ourselves  agreeable.  We  peeled  off 
our  haughty  air  and  mixed.  Our  team  work  was 
[99] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ISYL 
perfect.  Each  one  of  us  nailed  a  man  in  Nell's 
string  and  edged  him  off,  interfering  to  give  the 
parson  a  chance.  I  had  the  red-headed  farmer ; 
that  hurt  some,  but  I  seen  my  duty,  and  I  done  it. 
We  got  real  friendly,  durn  him !  By  and  by  I  ran 
him  off  with  the  Bug  to  have  a  drink,  while  I  went 
back  to  take  a  look. 

Say,  the  Parson  was  all  right.  He  had  that 
girl  hypnotised.  He  was  sitting  on  the  bench  be 
side  her  manufacturing  serious  rhetoric,  and  she 
was  lamping  him  as  though  he  were  the  only  one 
within  two  hundred  and  ten  miles.  She  had  sat 
out  two  dances  with  him.  If  the  Parson  can 
preach  the  way  he  can  con,  he'll  be  a  regular 
Henry  Ward  Beecher.  I  judged  that  the  time  had 
come  for  the  event  of  the  evening,  and  I  signalled 
out  of  the  window  for  the  Bug  to  trot  in  the 
victim. 

You  couldn't  guess  what  that  budding  preacher 
was  doing  before  they  got  back !  Well,  there 
was  a  bunch  of  mistletoe  in  a  sort  of  entry  outside 
the  hall.  The  rustics  had  been  doing  their  un 
couth  gambols  under  it  all  the  evening.  Nell  sidled 
outside  pretending  that  she  wanted  air  and  stood 
there  looking  inviting.  Honest,  I  didn't  think  that 
[100] 


THE  COMBAT 

Parson  would  kiss  her,  but  she  was  a  sure  enough 
temptation  for  any  man.  She  was  a  beaut. 

"  Now  you  stop  ! "  she  says,  and  just  then  the 
farmer  got  into  the  field  of  vision. 

I  won't  repeat  the  yap's  comment,  but  it  wa.s  aot 
pretty.  The  Parson  stood  off  and  looked  meek, 
Nell  giggled.  "  '^ 

"You  little  runt,"  says  the  farmer,  "I  won't 
bother  to  smash  you,  but  I'm  going  to  just  natu 
rally  shake  the  innards  out  of  you ! " 

I  could  see  the  Parson's  back  begin  to  come  up. 
I  knew  he  was  wrestling  with  temptation,  but  all  he 
said  was,  "  You'd  better  not  touch  me,  sir ! " 

The  farmer  smiled,  and  ducked  his  head  as 
though  he  were  making  a  low  tackle  and  bumped 
into  the  Parson,  caught  him  low  by  the  waist 
around  both  arms.  Then  he  proceeded  to  shake 
him,  the  way  a  terrier  shakes  a  rat.  He  was  twice 
as  big  and  strong  as  our  man,  and  I  began  to  hae 
me  serious  doots.  The  Parson  had  no  chance  to 
exhibit  his  nerve  and  science  in  that  style  of  fight 
ing.  But  it  did  one  good  thing,  though, — it  got 
him  blazing,  foaming  mad. 

The  farmer  finished  his  shake  and  then  started 
to  let  go — and  then,  Lord  love  us !  you  would 
[101] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ISYL 
have  cried  with  joy  to  see  the  fireworks.  Parson 
put  the  heel  of  his  fist  into  the  yap's  chin  and  broke 
that  cinch  hold  to  flinders.  The  next  thing  that 
happened,  our  red-headed  friend  went  up  in  the 
air  and  oown  like  a  rocket,  with  me  yelling  my 
head  loose  in  a  corner.  The  farmer  got  up  like  a 
rubber  ball,  though,  and  rushed  after  Parson,  and 
that  was  what  we  wanted.  Our  man  stood  off 
and  shot  'em  in,  heavy  and  hard,  one  swipe 
after  another.  But  the  farmer  was  game,  and 
a  glutton  for  punishment.  He  was  in  love  and 
the  girl  was  watching,  chewing  her  handkerchief 
to  bits. 

The  farmer  stood  for  it  till  he  saw  about  sixteen 
Parsons,  and  then  we  pried  'em  apart.  You  ought 
to  have  viewed  the  remains ! 

What  d'you  think  Nell  Hawkins  did?  In  the 
classic  annals  of  the  Eternal  Feminine,  she's  always 
supposed  to  tag  the  victor  and  elope  with  the 
Might  makes  Right  proposition,  but  instead,  Nell 
jumped  for  the  loser. 

"  O,  George !  are  you  hurt  ?  "  she  says,  and  she 

went  to  crying  over  him  until  her  sleepy  old  father 

woke  up,  and  came  out  of  the  dressing-room  to 

investigate.     It  was  intruding  upon  a  family  party 

[102] 


THE  COMBAT 

to  stay,  so  we  pulled  out  from  motives  of  delicacy 
and  a  desire  to  celebrate. 

The  Parson  didn't  say  anything  for  a  long  time. 
After  a  while  he  put  his  hand  to  his  eye,  which 
was  damaged  some,  and  said : 

"  I've  been  fighting  again  !  " 

"  You  have !  "  says  the  Bug ;  "  and  it  was  the 
greatest  since  Marathon  !  " 

"  And  I  have  behaved  improperly  with  a  woman, 
and  you  fellows  led  me  into  temptation.  And  I 
was  to  preach  to-morrow,  too !  "  So  he  was ;  his 
first  Christmas  sermon,  at  a  little  country  church 
four  or  five  miles  from  Woodside. 

"What  was  the  text?"  the  Bug  asked  him. 
"  '  Peace  on  earth/  and  so  forth?  " 

"  Yes,"  says  the  Parson. 

"  Change  it  to  something  like  *  Whatsoever  thy 
right  hand  findeth  to  do,  do  it  with  thy  might,* " 
said  the  Bug. 

But  the  Parson  only  looked  kind  of  reproachful 
and  refused  to  join  our  festivity.  He  got  some 
other  embryo  preacher  to  do  his  Christmas  turn  for 
him,  and  he  was  never  quite  the  same  to  us  after 
ward.  The  only  drag  on  our  big  celebration,  after 
we  got  home,  was  the  absence  of  the  star  performer. 
[103] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ISYL 
Nell  Hawkins  married  the  red-headed  farmer, 
and  may  the  Lord  have  mercy  on  their  souls.  She 
sent  us  all  invitations,  too,  tickets  with  her  card 
inclosed — name  written  fancy  by  a  Spencerian 
expert  under  a  flap  with  a  bouquet  and  two  clasped 
hands  labelled  "  Friendship's  Offering  "  printed  in 
purple  and  green — the  kind  you  get  by  mail  from 
Augusta,  Maine,  with  the  latest  popular  songs, 
a  complete  guide  to  courtship  and  a  rolled  gold 
ring,  all  for  ten  cents.  And  when  we  showed  up 
at  the  ceremony,  darned  if  Parson  Jones  wasn't  the  • 
referee !  He  was  ordained  by  that  time,  but  they 
had  sent  for  him,  all  the  way  to  Sacramento,  where 
he  was  preaching  for  $400  a  year. 

When  it  was  over,  the  farmer  tried  to  crowd  a 
twenty  onto  Parson  Jones,  but  he  wouldn't  have  it. 
"No  fee,  please,"  he  says,  "I  have  been  well 
paid.  I  used  to  like  to  fight,  before  I  conquered 
the  old  Adam  in  me,  and  I  got  my  last  good  one 
out  of  you.  It  was  wicked,  but  I  enjoyed  it  as  I 
have  never  enjoyed  anything  before  or  since.  But 
if  you  had  only  held  on  when  you  had  me  going," 
he  added,  dropping  his  voice  so  the  rest  wouldn't 
hear,  "  I  wouldn't  be  here  to  tell  the  tale.  Never 
give  the  other  man  a  chance  to  get  at  you  at  long 
[104] 


THE  PAGEANT 

range,  unless  you're  sure  of  him,  and  I  hope  that 
you  two  will  be  happy  in  wedlock  and  walk  in  the 
ways  of  righteousness  all  your  days." 

No,  Parson  Jones  wouldn't  take  a  fee  for  that 
hitching,  though  I  guess  he  needed  the  money 
pretty  fierce.  But  he  got  back  at  'em  about  a  year 
later.  The  Parson  always  charges  the  regular 
union  rate  for  christenings — five  dollars  a  dip. 


V 
THE  PAGEANT 

t[  HOW  Queen  Isyl  rode  in  state  through  the  city,  and 
saw  a  face  at  a  window.  How  the  Chamberlain  sought 
to  discover  the  mystery  and  was  hindered  hy  a  stranger, 
and  how  the  two  outwitted  the  spy  '  The  Tale  of  Love 
Sartorial. 

BY  the  time  Isyl  had  reached  home,  dressed 
for  the  street  parade,  and  got  back  to  the 
Pavilion,  the  procession  was  ready  to  start. 
The  Chamberlain  was  nearly  prostrated  with  the 
suspense  when  it  was  found  that  her  whereabouts 
was  unknown.     To  have  to  provide  a  third  Queen 
[105] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ISYL 
would  have  been  too  much.     The  Grand  Com 
mander  had  returned  in  a  towering  rage. 

With  much  confusion  of  orders  the  several  divis 
ions  were  got  into  their  places  in  line  and  the  order 
given  by  the  Grand  Marshal  to  start.  Every  pos 
sible  organisation  was  represented,  from  the  civic 
displays  of  the  fire  and  police  departments  to  the 
military  corps  of  the  regulars  and  the  National 
Guard.  Besides  these  were  innumerable  vehicles 
bedecked  with  flowers,  floats  representing  differ 
ent  industries,  fraternal  societies,  school-children, 
Chinese  tongs  bearing  their  sacred  dragon,  and  the 
Board  of  Trade  in  hacks. 

The  Queen's  float  was  a  sumptuous  affair  dec 
orated  with  flowers  and  bunting.  Roses  were  ap 
plied  like  paint,  and  from  the  row  of  columns  rising 
from  the  base,  festoons  and  garlands  were  hung  in 
gorgeous  profusion.  The  Ladies-in- Waiting  sat  on 
a  semicircular  seat,  while  above  them,  raised  high 
in  air  on  a  gilded  throne,  Queen  Isyl  surveyed  the 
town  and  received  the  acclamations  of  the  popu 
lace.  The  San  Jose  Commandery  of  the  Knights 
of  the  Golden  Gate  on  horseback,  in  white 
vaquero  costume,  acted  as  the  Queen's  guard  of 
honour. 

[106] 


THE  PAGEANT 

When  tne  procession  passed  under  the  floral 
arch  that  crossed  First  Street,  the  magnificence  of 
the  city's  decoration  manifested  itself  in  a  dazzling 
profusion  of  flags  and  bunting.  The  main  street 
was  a  bewildering  perspective,  of  changing  colors. 
Overhead,  from  balcony  to  balcony  and  housetop 
to  housetop  stretched  arches,  festoons,  and  banners, 
reaching  away  into  the  distance,  making  the  route 
of  the  procession  a  brilliant  tunnel  of  purple  and 
gold,  while  on  either  side  of  the  street  a  vast 
throng  of  people  in  holiday  array  was  massed  like 
two  banks  of  flowers  ribboning  the  alley  of  some 
Brobdingnag  garden. 

As  her  float  progressed,  there  came  up  to  Isyl 
from  the  crowd  a  murmur  of  innumerable  voices, 
combined  in  one  strange  sustained  chord,  while 
before  her  and  behind  the  brisk  music  of  military 
bands  crashed  in  dissonance.  Handkerchiefs 
waved,  an  occasional  cheer  broke  forth,  and  from 
every  possible  window  were  men  and  women,  star 
ing.  She  was  confused  by  the  bewildering  sights 
and  sounds,  and  embarrassed  by  the  feeling  that 
she  was  a  usurper.  She  had  done  her  best  to 
find  the  true  Queen,  but  accident  had  baffled  her 
search.  The  mysterious  stranger  had  left  her 
[107] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ISYL 

again,  and  again  she  was  alone  in  the  face  of  gazing 
thousands.     She  wished  it  were  over. 

The  parade  countermarched,  and  her  float,  after 
returning  down  First  Street,  came  to  a  temporary 
halt  near  the  floral  arch.  She  was  looking  absently 
into  the  packed  second-story  windows  along  the 
line  of  march,  when  her  eyes  were  drawn  to  a 
single  face. 

It  was  Norine  Almeric.  Though  she  had  but 
an  instant's  vision,  Isyl  was  sure  of  that.  Norine 
stood  a  little  back  from  a  window,  but  from  the 
height  of  the  queen's  throne  she  was  plainly  visible. 
Her  expression  was  that  of  a  person  in  great  dis 
tress. 

Isyl  had  scarcely  time  to  recognise  her,  however, 
when  Norine  disappeared  from  the  window,  and 
at  the  same  time  the  float  lurched  forward.  A 
hundred  feet  further  the  procession  halted  again, 
and  Isyl  looked  down  into  the  street  for  someone 
to  whom  she  could  tell  the  astonishing  news.  The 
Chamberlain,  who,  riding  at  the  head  of  the  parade, 
had  already  finished  the  route,  and  was  returning 
to  witness  the  pageant  as  a  spectator,  was  making 
his  way  toward  her,  nodding  to  various  friends 
right  and  left. 

[108] 


THE  PAGEANT 

Isyl  caught  his  eye  and  beckoned  to  him.  He 
ran  up  and  climbed  one  of  the  wheels  of  the  float 
to  a  whispering  distance  as  she  leaned  to  him. 

"  I  saw  Norine  Almeric !  "  she  called  cautiously, 
so  that  her  ladies  might  not  hear.  "  She  was  in 
the  window  of  a  house  over  the  'Star'  Billiard 
Hall.  Can't  you  go  and  see  what  it  means  ?  She 
may  be  kept  there  against  her  will ! " 

He  nodded,  jumped  down  and  made  his  way 
back  up  the  street.  The  colloquy  had  of  course 
been  visible  to  everyone,  although  it  had  not  been 
overheard,  and  among  the  observers  there  hap 
pened  to  be  a  special  writer  for  the  San  Francisco 
"  Enquirer."  The  scene  was  not  lost  upon  him. 
It  might  mean  an  important  story.  So  he,  too, 
elbowed  his  way  through  the  crush,  and  followed 
the  Chamberlain. 

Just  before  the  procession  started  again,  Isyl, 
looking  over  a  board  fence,  which  screened  him 
from  the  street,  saw  Tom  Parrish  run  through  a 
vacant  yard  in  the  direction  of  the  house  where 
Norine  had  appeared.  She  watched  him  in  surprise 
until  the  float  carried  her  out  of  sight,  but  just  be 
fore  that  he  entered  a  side  door  of  the  block.  Then 
she  was  swept  on  down  the  street. 
[109] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ISYL 

The  Chamberlain,  forcing  his  way  through  the 
crowd,  reached  the  "  Star  "  Billiard  Parlours.  Its 
doors  were  wide  open  to  the  street,  disclosing  a 
row  of  tables,  a  bar,  and,  in  the  rear,  a  glazed 
door.  Beside  the  street  door  was  another  leading 
into  a  narrow  hall  from  which  stairs  arose,  and  on 
the  right  of  this  hall  there  was  entrance  into  the 
billiard  parlours. 

Seeing  that  the  parlours  were  deserted,  he  passed 
through  this  side  entrance  and  started  upstairs  to 
investigate  the  second  story,  passing  a  sign  which 
read  "Star Hotel.  Rooms  by  the  Day  or  Week." 
Half  way  up,  he  was  met  by  a  man  descending. 

The  stranger  was  a  well-formed  Englishman 
with  a  smooth  face,  dressed  in  grey  tweeds ;  a 
jolly,  muscular-looking  man  of  twenty-eight  or  so. 
He  stood  blocking  the  passage  and  said,  good- 
naturedly  enough, 

"I  say,  old  chap,  what  d'you  happen  to  be 
looking  for,  if  you  don't  mind  ?  " 

"  That's  none  of  your  business  that  I  know  of," 
said  the  Chamberlain,  attempting  to  force  his  way 
past.  "  Who  are  you,  anyway  ?  " 

"  I  might  make  the  same  retort,  don't  you  know, 
but  I  won't.  Here's  my  card,  if  you  like,  but  I'm 
[110] 


THE  PAGEANT 

afraid  you  mayn't  go  upstairs  just  now,  you  know. 
I  wouldn't  insist,  if  I  were  you." 

"  What's  going  to  prevent  my  going  up  ?  "  said 
the  Chamberlain,  hesitating. 

"  My  word,  what  do  you  expect  I'm  standing 
here  for,  old  chap?"  said  the  Briton. 

"What  right  have  you  to  prevent  me?"  the 
Chamberlain  blustered,  but  without  attempting  to 
set  foot  on  the  next  step.  Instead,  he  glanced  at 
the  card,  which  read  "  Mr.  J.  Montgomery  Lee." 

"  I  have  the  right  of  superior  biceps  and  a  good 
old-fashioned  desire  to  make  trouble  with  them  for 
you,  if  you  insist  on  being  an  ass,"  was  the  reply. 

"  Is  Miss  Almeric  up  there  ?  If  she  is,  I  want 
to  see  her  ! "  the  Chamberlain  demanded. 

"  Miss  Almeric  is  not  up  there,  I  give  you  my 
word  for  that.  But  if  she  were,  you  couldn't  see 
her,  I  give  you  my  word  for  that,  too.  It's  my 
opinion  you're  pretty  jolly  impertinent,  you  know." 

At  this  moment  the  "  Enquirer  "  reporter,  still 
on  the  trail  of  the  Chamberlain,  appeared  at  the 
door  below.  The  Chamberlain  instantly  changed 
his  attitude,  for  it  would  not  do  for  the  papers  to 
get  hold  of  this  information.  The  idea  seemed  to 
strike  J.  Montgomery  Lee  at  the  same  time.  He 

[in] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ISYL 
winked,  and,  with  this  tacit  understanding,  the  two 
descended  the  stairs. 

"  What's  up  ?  "  said  the  reporter. 

"  Nothing  that  I  know  of,  except  the  price  of 
purple  bunting,*'  said  Lee.  "  Why  ?  " 

"  Oh,  we  saw  the  Queen  send  his  jags  off  here 
on  some  errand  in  a  hurry,  and  it  looked  like  a 
story  to  me.  Say,  put  me  wise!  I'm  from  the 
4  Enquirer,*  you  know.  The  more  we  get  about 
this  show  the  more  free  advertising  you  get.** 

Lee  escorted  him  into  the  billiard  parlours  with 
a  little  forcible  politeness,  handling  him  by  the  left 
elbow.  The  Chamberlain  followed,  noticing  that 
the  door  in  the  partition  had  a  window  through 
which  anyone  who  descended  the  stairs  could  be 
easily  seen.  The  three  men  took  seats  in  a  corner, 
and  Lee  offered  his  companions  cigars. 

"  The  fact  is,**  he  said,  "  there  is  a  small  story, 
though  I  must  say  I*m  sorry  you've  discovered  it. 
If  you*ll  promise  to  hold  it  back  till  to-morrow  or 
next  day,  1*11  give  you  the  scoop,  and  1*11  see  that 
none  of  the  other  papers  get  it.  But  really,  you 
know,  it*s  not  much.  I*d  much  prefer  you  wouldn't 
use  it." 

"  Well,  you  go  ahead  with  the  news,  and  1*11 
[112] 


THE  PAGEANT 

hold  it  out,"  said  the  reporter.  "  You  understand 
I'm  not  a  common  ordinary  reporter,  I'm  a  special 
writer  sent  down  here  to  do  the  general  fluff  and 
flim-flam  of  the  Fiesta  from  the  sidewalk  point  of 
view.  But  if  this  is  news,  we  have  to  have  it, 
and  we'll  handle  it  as  considerately  as  possible." 

"That's  very  decent  of  you,  really,"  said  J. 
Montgomery  Lee.  "  You  see  it's  no  end  of  a  del 
icate  matter  to  me,  and  I'd  be  pretty  badly  cut  up  if 
the  thing  got  out,  at  least  if  it  were  published  directly. 
The  fact  is,  my  wiie's  upstairs  with  two  trained 
nurses,  and  she's  a  bit  out  of  her  head,  don't  you 
know.  She'd  had  nervous  prostration,  and  her 
brain's  slightly  affected.  She  thinks  she's  a  Queen. 
I  expect  that  reading  about  all  this  Fiesta  rot,  and 
the  election  and  such  poppycock  rather  got  on  her 
nerves.  When  they  began  to  decorate  the  town 
she  got  the  idea  that  it  was  all  on  her  account,  don't 
you  know,  and  so  I  rented  a  room  here  just  to 
humour  her  and  see  the  parade.  She  was  quiet 
enough  till  the  Queen's  float  came  by,  and  then  she 
had  a  '  arise  de  nerfs.'  I'm  going  to  take  her  up 
to  Agnews  to-morrow,  where  she  can  be  nursed, 
and  I  rather  hope  the  attack  will  pass  off.  She's 
very  delicate  and  high-strung,  that's  all." 
[113] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ISYL 

The  reporter  smiled  at  the  Chamberlain.  "  It's 
too  bad !  "  he  said.  He  turned  to  Mr.  Lee.  "  What 
did  you  say  your  name  was  ?  " 

"Parker,  Thaddeus  Q." 

"  If  you  don't  mind,  I'll  make  a  note  of  it,"  said 
the  special  writer. 

"Oh,  you're  welcome  to,"  said  Lee,  and  he 
stood  up,  intimating  that  the  interview  was  finished. 

The  reporter,  however,  made  no  move  to  go.  It 
was  evident  that  he  was  not  so  easily  deceived  as 
Mr.  Lee  had  hoped.  The  truth  was,  he  had  not 
failed  to  notice  the  fact  that  the  Chamberlain  had 
been  watching  the  door  in  the  partition  ever  since 
they  entered  the  parlours.  So  he  put  his  feet  on  a 
chair  and  thoughtfully  examined  the  lighted  end  of 
his  cigar. 

"  I  expect  that's  about  all  I  have  to  say,"  said 
Lee,  finally. 

"  Oh,  there's  no  hurry.  I  have  nothing  to  do  for 
a  while,"  the  reporter  answered,  yawning. 

Things  were  thus  at  a  deadlock,  the  Chamberlain 
watching  Lee,  Lee  watching  the  Chamberlain,  and 
the  reporter  watching  both,  and  all  three  with  one 
eye  on  the  glazed  door,  when  a  man  entered  the 
billiard  parlours  from  the  rear.  He  had  red  hair. 
[114] 


THE  PAGEANT 

As  he  reached  Lee's  chair,  he  tapped  that  gentle 
man  on  the  back  twice. 

"Well,  Gummy,  what's  doing?"  he  asked,  in 
specting  the  two  others. 

"  Plenty,"  Lee  replied.  "  Here's  a  reporter  has 
got  hold  of  the  story  of  my  wife's  insanity  already, 
and  I  had  to  give  him  the  details." 

"  Oh ! "  said  Tom  Parrish,  "  and  our  little  friend 
in  the  incredible  regalia  here  ?  " 

"  He  seems  to  be  equally  inquisitive,"  said  Lee. 

"You  seem  to  take  your  wife's  trouble  rather 
calmly,"  the  reporter  remarked,  chewing  his  cigar. 

"  Gummy  Lee  is  a  Briton,  my  friend  and  scribe," 
said  Tom  Parrish,  "  and  he  prides  himself  on  never 
having  been  surprised  but  once  in  his  life.  That 
was  when  he  was  taken  for  an  American  at  the 
Moulin  Rouge." 

"You  fellows  are  all  right.  The  only  trouble 
with  Mr.  Lee  is  that  he  sports  too  many  pseudo 
nyms.  Last  I  heard  of  him,  his  name  was  Parker." 
The  reporter  awaited  a  reply,  with  his  arms 
folded. 

Tom  Parrish  grinned.     "By   Jove,  Gummy,  I 
didn't  know  you  had  that  much  imagination.     I'm 
positively  proud  of  you.  What  was  the  fairy  tale  ?  " 
[115] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ISYL 

"  Never  mind,  it  didn't  fool  me  a  little  bit,"  said 
the  reporter.  "  Only,  I've  found  that  a  man  with 
several  names  to  spare  usually  has  a  good  story  up 
his  sleeve,  and  I  want  it." 

The  Chamberlain  had  come  to  the  conclusion 
that  Miss  Almeric,  if  she  had  been  in  the  house, 
was  now  safely  away,  and  he  rose  to  go.  "I  hope 
I'll  meet  you  again,  Mr.  Lee,"  he  said,  giving  that 
gentleman  a  meaning  look.  Then  he  left  to  find  the 
Queen. 

The  reporter,  however,  not  knowing  the  tenor  of 
Isyl's  communication  to  the  Chamberlain,  preferred 
to  wait  and  watch  the  two  friends,  for  he  had  trans 
ferred  his  suspicions  to  the  Briton.  He  began,  there 
fore,  to  talk  volubly,  in  the  desire  to  ingratiate  him 
self  with  these  men,  and,  if  possible  by  patient 
waiting  to  witness  the  development  of  the  situation. 
Something  he  was  sure  had  happened  in  that  build 
ing,  or  was  about  to  happen,  or  they  would  not  re 
main. 

He  watched  the  retreating  form  of  the  Chamber 
lain  with  a  smile. 

"  Funny  how  some  men  like  dress,"  he  remarked. 
"  It's  natural  for  women  to  want  to  light  themselves 
up,  but  when  a  man  gets  the  clothes  habit  there's 
[116] 


THE  PAGEANT 

generally  a  screw  loose  somewhere.  Vanity  doesn't 
quite  account  for  it.  There's  been  a  great  deal  of 
discussion  in  the  papers  about  whether  women 
dress  for  women  or  for  men.  It's  my  opinion  they 
dress  for  themselves.  But  when  a  man  begins  to 
watch  the  fashion  tips,  he  does  it  with  malice  afore 
thought.  It  reminds  me  of  a  rather  queer  example 
of  that,  I  ran  across  in  San  Francisco  once." 

His  two  auditors  manifested  a  mild  curiosity  to 
hear  the  narrative,  and  he  succeeded  in  delaying 
them  for  a  quarter  of  an  hour  with 

The  Story  of  the  Special  Writer 

THE  MATINEE  PARADE 

Or,  Love  Sartorial 

""^HERE  was  a  chap  in  San  Francisco  named 
Timothy  Cobb.     He  worked  in  a  chande 
lier  factory  on  Mission  Street,  as  a  brass 
spinner,  and  he  was  a  good  one,  too.     He  was  as 
ordinary  and  as  harmless  a  guy  as  any  workman  in 
the  shop  until  he  began  to  read  the  clothing-store  ads 
in  the  newspapers  and  then  he  emerged  from  the 
chrysalis  and  became  a  wonder.     It  came  about 
this  way. 

Every  city,  more  or  less,  has  its  pet  particular 
[117] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ISYL 
show,  where  you  go  to  see  and  be  seen.  There's 
the  church  parade  in  Hyde  Park,  Sunday  mornings, 
and  the  Broadway  Rialto  in  New  York,  for  instance. 
But  the  pride  and  the  joy  and  the  glory  and  the 
boast  of  middle-class  San  Francisco  is  the  matinee 
parade,  every  Saturday  afternoon  from  4.30  to  5, 
down  Market  Street  from  Powell,  and  up  Kearney 
Street  to  Bush,  and  back  again.  Here's  where  you 
find  out  what  San  Francisco  women  look  like  when 
they  have  their  war-paint  on,  and  what  the  cheap 
sports  about  town  think  of  'em.  It's  as  good  a 
show  of  beauty  and  impertinence  and  vanity  and 
clothes  as  you  can  find  on  the  continent  of  North 
America,  and  it  isn't  half  appreciated,  except  by 
the  loafers  that  hang  up  in  front  of  the  cigar  shops 
on  the  line  of  march. 

Now  when  the  Brass-workers'  Union  succeeded 
in  getting  Saturday  afternoon  off,  Tim  Cobb  began 
to  haunt  the  parade  and  pick  favourites  in  the  beauty 
contest,  like  the  rest  of  the  rounders.  He  had, 
like  a  good  many  San  Francisco  boys  who  have 
never  been  out  of  the  State,  an  idea  that  the  visible 
axis  of  the  universe  stuck  out  of  Lotta's  Fountain, 
at  the  corner  of  Market  and  Kearney,  and  his 
highest  ambition  at  that  time  was  to  have  a  room 
[118] 


THE  PAGEANT 

over  the  dentist's  office  at  the  Geary  Street  gore, 
and  see  life  out  of  his  window,  night  and  day,  as  it 
is  lived  in  the  giddiest  town  in  the  U.  S. 

Now,  about  this  time  there  was  a  girl  who  car 
ried  off  all  the  honours  in  the  parade  by  universal 
consent.  She  was  the  limit  in  feminine  apparel,  and 
a  good-looker,  with  a  figure  into  the  bargain. 

She  was  the  without-which-is-nothing  of  the 
show,  the  blue-ribbon  entry  of  the  parade,  and  so 
well  known  to  the  cigar-stand  loafers  and  the  curb 
stone  rubbers  that  they  called  her  "  The  Latest." 
The  women  that  passed  her  in  the  line  would  stare 
over  their  shoulders  for  as  long  as  she  was  in  sight, 
looking  her  up  and  down  and  making  mental  mem 
oranda  of  her  outfit  the  way  women  will.  She 
always  walked  alone  and  never  looked  right  nor 
left. 

The  very  newest  things  in  female  togs  always 
came  out  on  "  The  Latest "  before  any  other  woman 
had  so  much  as  a  chance.  If  the  fashion  notes  said 
big  hats  were  coming  in,  she'd  appear  next  Satur 
day  in  the  biggest  one  on  the  street.  If  sleeves 
grew  littler,  she'd  beat  any  girl  in  the  parade,  and 
in  fact,  most  of  the  time  she  was  about  two  jumps 
ahead  of  the  first  authentic  reports  on  styles.  You 

[119] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  1SYL 
could  tell,  or  a  woman  could,  by  looking  at  her 
on  Saturday  afternoon,  just  what  the  women's 
pages  in  the  Sunday  supplements  would  have 
pictures  of  next  day.  If  she  didn't  show  up  till 
late,  all  the  matinee  girls  in  the  procession  would 
wait  till  she  hove  in  sight  before  they'd  dare  to  go 
home. 

When  Timothy  saw  her,  in  the  first  automobile 
coat  of  the  season,  holding  her  skirts  through  the 
pocket,  the  way  the  Sunday  papers  told  how,  he 
surrendered.  He  went  crazy  over  that  girl,  though 
he  recognised  that  she  was  way  out  of  his  class, 
and  he  began  to  play  for  her. 

Looking  himself  over,  in  a  calm,  impersonal  way, 
he  saw  that  he  couldn't  qualify  for  such  a  queen  as 
"  The  Latest."  He'd  been  wearing  a  rather  shiny 
black  diagonal  cutaway  and  his  necktie  was  the 
come-easy,  ready-made  stripe.  He  decided  he'd 
have  to  take  a  brace. 

Now  you  know  how  advertising  goes  in  streaks, 
one  firm  trying  to  beat  another.  Sometimes  the 
papers  are  full  of  tobacco  ads,  and  sometimes  it's 
breakfast-mush  poems,  and  sometimes  it's  furniture 
jollies.  At  this  time  the  ready-made  clothing  shops 
were  splurging  big,  and  the  write-ups  and  pictures 
[120] 


THE  PAGEANT 

read  like  circus  posters.  And  so  Timothy  got  the 
tip.  The  Reager  Brothers  certainly  had  an  ad 
writer  who  could  hurl  rhetoric.  The  firm  was  then 
pushing  an  overcoat  called  "The  Rambler,"  the 
newest  thing  for  swell  dressers,  for  $12.78,  and 
one  glance  at  the  parade  was  enough  to  show  that 
they  were  selling  'em  fast.  "  The  Rambler  "  had 
a  nifty  little  diagonal  pocket  that  tipped  off  the 
brand,  and  there  was  no  mistaking  it  a  block  away. 
Every  self-respecting  goat  in  the  line  had  blown 
himself  for  the  proper  shell. 

By  giving  up  the  theatre  for  next  week,  and 
standing  off  his  laundry  bill,  Timothy  managed  to 
hold  out  $1 2.78  on  pay-day,  and  at  four  o'clock  he 
was  a  thoroughbred  "Rambler"  as  far  as  outsides 
went,  for  a  long  overcoat  covers  a  multitude  of 
sartorial  sins.  But  when  he  looked  in  the  glass,  he 
had  to  acknowledge  that  his  Derby  hadn't  that 
catchy  flare  shown  in  the  windows  of  the  swellest 
hatters,  and  his  shoes,  bought  at  a  bargain-sale, 
were  months  behind  the  proper  thing.  He  almost 
gave  up  in  despair,  but  the  sight  of  his  inaccessible 
queen  in  a  plaid  tunic  made  him  determine  to  be 
worthy  of  her. 

That  week  he  took  up  Reager  Brothers'  section 
[121]  ' 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ISYL 
of  the  paper  and  he  read  an  argument  something 
like  this: 

"  Why  not  get  one  of  our  snappy,  dashing  Blackenwhite 
effects?  A  brisk,  stylish,  cleverly-tailored  suit  for  $9.66  ! 
It  has  a  hang  and  a  swing  to  it,  a  set  and  a  go  about  it  that 
satisfies  the  smartest  dressers  in  town.  It  has  the  broad- 
shouldered  cut,  and  the  wide-rolled  lapel  revers  that  are  the 
rage  this  season.  Modelled  on  the  most  exclusive  lines  of 
the  latest  mode,  and  built  of  the  sauciest  suitings,  finished 
with  style  by  artists  in  every  particular.  Only  $9.66  while 
they  last,  and  it  won't  be  long ! " 

Timothy  bought  a  Blackenwhite  effect  next  Sat 
urday,  and  had  but  twelve  cents  left.  He  bor 
rowed  from  a  chap  in  the  shop  and  contemplated 
his  queen  at  a  respectful  distance.  But  alas !  "  The 
Rambler"  had  now  been  superseded  by  the 
"Beau  Brummel"  Spring  topper  overcoat,  with 
four  pockets  and  buttons.  Moreover,  his  hat  and 
shoes  were  anachronistic.  The  swell  dressers  were 
buying  Alpines  with  Panama  rolls,  and,  for  foot 
wear,  the  popular  choice  of  the  real-thing  sports 
was  the  opera-toed  oak-tan  bluchers. 

Timothy  now  began  to  work  in  the  factory  as  he 
had  never  worked  before.  Inspired  by  the  desire 
to  gain  worship  in  the  eyes  of  the  "Latest"  he 
[I22J 


THE  PAGEANT 

became  a  fiend  at  the  turning-lathe.  He  worked 
during  noon  hours,  he  worked  overtime  at  night,  in 
spite  of  all  the  rules  of  the  Brass-workers'  Union. 
He  went  without  cigarettes  and  he  walked  back 
and  forth  from  the  factory.  He  left  his  boarding- 
house,  took  a  hall  bedroom  and  ate  at  a  Japanese 
restaurant. 

But  he  could  never  quite  keep  up  with  the  styles. 
He  sold  his  "  Rambler  "  to  a  second-hand  clothing 
dealer  for  $3.50  and  bought  a  "  Beau  Brummel " 
topper.  Just  then  the  "  Blackenwhite  effects  "  gave 
way  to  the  reign  of  "  Scotch  Greens  "  and  a  suit  of 
this  popular  and  modish  worsted  cost  him  $  1 3.40. 
He  achieved  opera  toes  just  as  the  fashion  changed 
to  "Walkabout"  heels,  and  his  late  imitation  Pan 
ama  roll  for  $2.13  appeared  just  as  the  parade 
donned  the  "Florodora"  pearl  felt  headpieces 
without  bands  or  ribbon.  Meanwhile,  the  queen 
of  his  desire  walked  alone,  gowned  in  "  The  Latest " 
bell  skirts  with  military  blouse  and  raglan,  remote 
from  possibility.  He  followed  her,  dumbly  paying 
her  homage.  Once,  in  a  fit  of  ambition  consequent 
upon  a  purchase  of  a  buff  canvas  waistcoat,  he 
ventured  to  nod  to  her.  He  was  not  quite  sure 
whether  or  not  she  answered  the  salute. 
[123] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ISYL 
But  Timothy's  zeal  at  the  factory  was  not  un 
noticed.  His  devotion  and  industry  soon  caused 
him  to  be  promoted  to  be  a  stock  clerk  and  assist 
ant  foreman,  and  his  salary  was  increased  by  $7 
weekly.  Every  cent  of  it  went  into  the  till  of 
Reager  Brothers. 

He  was  now  almost  able  to  keep  up  with  the 
latest  novelties  in  dress,  and  every  Saturday  he  had 
a  talk  with  one  of  Reager' s  salesmen  to  obtain  the 
first  tip  on  new  importations.  He  still  lived  in  the 
hall  bedroom  and  dined  at  the  Japanese  restaurant, 
but  the  dazzling  prospect  of  being  the  best  dressed 
man  in  the  Saturday  afternoon  parade  seemed  near 
at  hand.  He  was  made  foreman  of  the  shop  with 
another  raise  of  salary,  and  then  he  began  to  welter 
in  clothes. 

He  had  a  fine  contempt,  by  this  time,  for  tailor- 
made  raiment.  You  never  saw  tailors'  advertise 
ments  in  the  Sunday  papers — how  could  one  tell 
what  was  what,  if  you  went  to  an  obscure  shop 
without  a  show  window  and  were  secretly  meas 
ured  for  a  suit?  Everyone  who  read  the  papers 
knew  that  Reager  Brothers  were  "  world-beaters 
for  overcoats,"  that  they  employed  only  the  high 
est  priced  union  labour,  and  handled  only  the  most 
[124] 


THE  PAGEANT 

exclusive  designs.     Their  tag  in  the  neckband  of 
a  suit  made  that  suit  absolutely  correct. 

He  was  pointed  out,  now,  by  the  lookers-on  at 
the  parade,  as  one  of  the  stars.  He  began  to  be  a 
bit  original,  selecting  ties  a  shade  different  from 
those  the  Reagers  showed  in  their  cases,  and,  to 
his  delight,  his  choice  was  copied.  Girls  would 
smile  at  him,  and  whisper  as  he  went  by.  And 
then,  to  make  his  success  assured,  "The  Latest'* 
began  bowing  to  him  regularly  as  she  passed  him. 
But  both  still  walked  alone.  He  dreamed  of  her 
when  he  slept,  but  even  yet  he  dared  not  actually 
address  her. 

One  day  while  he  was,  as  usual,  in  jumper  and 
overalls,  helping  an  apprentice  at  the  lathe,  the 
speaking-tube  whistled,  and  word  was  called  up 
that  a  lady  was  coming  upstairs  to  pick  out  a  chan 
delier  in  the  stock-room.  He  met  her  at  the  ele 
vator,  and  wilted  with  mortification.  It  was  "  The 
Latest ! " 

She  was  all  smiles  and  good  graces,  and  never 
seemed  to  notice  his  greasy  working  clothes,  and 
he  managed  to  find  the  chandelier  she  wished, 
hardly  daring  to  look  her  in  the  eye,  she  who  was 
the  ideal  of  his  wildest  fancies,  the  stylish  fashion- 
[125] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ISYL 

plate  of  the  Matinee  Parade.  She  spoke  to  him  as 
to  an  old  friend,  even  as  to  an  equal,  and,  to  his 
surprise,  handed  him  a  card  when  she  left  and 
asked  him  to  call  on  her. 

He  read  the  inscription,  "  Miss  Gerty  Baggo, 
2006  O'Farrell  Street,'*  in  a  daze,  and  he  resolved 
to  call  on  her  that  very  night,  to  remove  the  loath 
some  impression  that  he  knew  his  overalls  had  made 
on  her. 

He  went  to  his  room,  and  looked  over  his  clothes 
as  a  general  inspects  his  battalions.  He  selected 
first  one  of  his  refined  shirtings  and  adjusted  to  it  a 
nobby  collar  of  the  exact  height  recommended  that 
week  by  the  favourite  haberdasher.  This  he  gar 
nished  with  a  tie  described  in  the  show  window  of 
the  same  shop  as  "  ultramondaine."  He  drew  his 
trousers  from  beneath  the  mattress  where  they  had 
been  pressing,  he  picked  one  out  of  five  fancy  waist 
coats,  and  donned  a  Reager  coat  cut  with  the  lat 
est  round-hip  effect.  Then  he  sallied  forth,  a  bit 
uncertain  still  as  to  his  attire.  He  could  not  be 
quite  sure  that  his  48-cent  pin-dotted  open-work 
black  hose  had  not  been  superseded  since  Saturday. 

He  called  at  2006  O'Farrell  Street,  and  was 
shown  into  the  boarding-house  parlour  by  the  land- 
[126] 


THE  PAGEANT 

lady.  She  took  his  printed  card  and  soon  returned 
saying  that  Miss  Baggo  would  be  right  down. 
This  gave  Tim  Cobb  time  for  a  swift  look  into  the 
mirror  over  the  mantel.  Then  he  arranged  him 
self  as  gracefully  as  possible  upon  a  sofa,  stretched 
the  crease  in  his  trousers  tight,  ran  his  hand  across 
his  hair,  and  pulled  down  his  cuffs  so  that  they 
showed  about  three-quarters  of  an  inch  of  imported 
fancy  twilled  madras. 

Miss  Baggo  came  at  last.  Timothy,  giving  her 
time  for  an  impression  before  he  rose,  greeted  her 
in  undisguised  amazement. 

She  wore  an  old  grey  wrapper ;  her  hair  was  in 
kid  curl-papers ;  her  feet  were  incased  in  red  knit 
worsted  slippers.  It  is  very  much  to  Mr.  Cobb's 
credit  that  he  still  thought  her  wonderful.  His 
queen  could  do  no  wrong. 

"  How  de  do,"  she  said,  and  then,  "  why  I 
thought  of  course  you'd  wear  your  old  clothes ! 
Why  didn't  you  ?  " 

Timothy  was  speechless.  Miss  Baggo  went  on, 
as  she  seated  herself  beside  him  like  an  old  friend, 

"  I  just  do  get  so  tired  of  having  to  dress  up, 
it's  a  relief  to  be  able  to  wear  what  I  please,  in  any 
comfortable  old  way,  and  I  thought  you'd  feel  so, 
[127] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ISYL 
too.     To-morrow  Stitcher  &  Baste  get  their  new 
Fall  styles,  and  they'll  be  tighter  than  ever.     I'm 
awfully  sick  of  the  job — aren't  you?  " 

He  was  staring  at  her  in  a  daze,  and  she  stopped 
and  looked  at  him. 

"  Why ! "  she  said,  "  I  haven't  made  a  mistake, 
have  I  ?  Don't  you  dress  for  the  Reager  Broth 
ers  ?  I  thought  of  course  they  hired  you  ! " 

VI 
THE  QUEST 

^1  HOW  Queen  Isyl  was  impeached  of  treason  and 
besought  the  service  of  her  knights.  Of  their  quest 
for  La  Beale  Norine,  and  hon>  the  Grand  Commander 
rescued  a  fair  damsel  in  distress  :  The  Tale  of  Love 
Insidious. 

rT^HE   Chamberlain,   feeling  sure   that   noth 
ing  further  was  to  be  discovered  of  Miss 
Almeric's     whereabouts,    hurried    to    the 
Queen  and  told  her  of  his  ill  success.     The  fact 
that  Tom  Parrish  had  again  appeared  in  connec 
tion  with  Norine's  mysterious   disappearance  did 
[128] 


THE  QUEST 

not  escape  Isyl's  notice,  though  she  could  not  think 
what  it  might  mean. 

She  had  dismissed  the  Chamberlain  and  was 
still  in  her  dressing-room  at  the  Pavilion,  when, 
answering  a  knock  at  the  door,  she  found  Bob  Al- 
meric,  Norine's  father,  in  a  high  state  of  rage. 

"  See  here,  I  want  to  have  a  talk  with  you, 
young  lady,"  he  said  gruffly,  "  and  if  you  don't  tell 
what  you  know,  by  Jove,  I'll  see  that  you're  made 
to !  Now,  where's  my  daughter  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know  !     I  thought  she  was  at  home, 

iii." 

"  You  know  better  than  that ! "  he  exclaimed. 

"  Yes,  I  did  see  her  to-day  at  a  window  over 
the  *  Star '  Billiard  Hall,  but  you  said  yourself  that 
she  was  at  home." 

"  Of  course  I  said  so.  Do  you  think  I  want  a 
scandal  out  in  all  the  papers  ?  I  thought  you  knew 
something  about  it!  What  is  she  doing  in  the 
4  Star 'Hotel?" 

"  I  don't  know  !  Really,  I  don't !  "  Isyl  pro 
tested.  "  We  tried  to  find  her  there,  but  she  had 
gone.  That's  all  I  know  about  it ! " 

"  Well,  where's  she  gone  ?  "  he  demanded. 

"  I  don't  know,"  she  repeated.  "  I  wish  I  did ! " 
[129] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ISYL 
"This  is  a  pretty  kettle  of  fish ! "  he  growled.  "  It's 
going  to  make  a  whole  lot  of  trouble  for  somebody, 
and  don't  you  forget  that,  young  lady !  Norine's 
mad  enough  to  do  almost  anything  crazy,  but  this 
is  a  little  too  much.  It  looks  to  me  like  she  has  been 
spirited  away.  See  here,  Isyl  Shea,  you  were  the  one 
who  saw  her  last,  in  this  very  room.  You  were  her 
rival  in  the  voting  and  your  friends  all  had  a  grouch 
because  you  weren't  elected.  They  cost  me  a 
whole  lot  of  money,  too.  I  hear  the  Knights  of 
the  Golden  Gate  threatened  to  boycott  the  Fiesta, 
and  as  it  was,  they  didn't  show  up  till  you  were 
crowned.  It  looks  pretty  suspicious  to  me.  I  be 
lieve  they  kidnapped  Norine,  and  are  holding  her, 
and  I  believe  you  had  a  hand  in  it.  Here  you  are, 
the  only  one  to  profit  by  her  being  away,  you're 
wearing  my  daughter's  shoes,  by  Jove,  and  it's  up 
to  you  to  tell  where  she  is,  or  I'll  make  a  row 
about  it." 

"  You  needn't  threaten  me,"  Isyl  replied,  pretty 
angry  herself  by  this  time.  "  I  don't  know  any 
thing  about  it,  and  that's  all  I've  got  to  say." 

Bob  Almeric  had  watched  her  closely  to  detect 
the   slightest  sign  of  falsehood,   and  just  at   that 
minute,  as  Isyl  raised  her  hand  to  fasten  a  hat- 
[130] 


THE  QUEST 

pin,  he  caught  sight  of  the  sapphire  ring  she  still 
wore. 

"  Let's  look  at  that  ring ! "  he  cried,  taking  a 
step  toward  her.  "  By  Jove,  I  believe  that's  No- 
rine's  ring.  You  don't  know  anything  about  it, 
do  you.  Where  did  you  get  that  ring,  then  ?  " 

Isyl,  now  thoroughly  aroused,  put  her  hand  be 
hind  her.  "  It's  my  own  ring ! "  she  asserted  stoutly. 
"  Never  you  mind  where  1  got  it.  You  shan't  see  it, 
either.  You  needn't  come  here  and  try  to  bully 
me,  if  you  are  the  boss  of  the  county !  I'm  not 
afraid  of  you ! " 

"  111  have  you  prove  that,  young  lady.  It  looks 
to  me  a  good  deal  worse  than  I  had  suspected, 
even.  You'd  better  look  out  for  yourself,  or  else 
confess  now ! " 

"  Will  you  kindly  leave  my  room  ? "  Isyl  ex 
claimed,  her  eyes  flashing. 

Fie  departed,  muttering  threats,  and,  as  soon  as 
the  door  had  closed  behind  him,  Isyl  broke  down. 
Why  had  she  lied  about  the  ring  for  the  sake  of  a 
man  she  had  known  but  two  days?  Whose  was 
the  ring,  and  if  it  were  Norine's,  how  had  Tom 
Parrish  obtained  it  ?  Her  mind  was  full  of  doubt. 
When  Tom  was  accused  she  could  stand  up  for 
[  131  ] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ISYL 

him  against  anybody,  and  even  lie  for  him,  but, 
alone  with  herself  and  her  suspicions,  it  was  un 
bearable.  Bob  Almeric's  words,  too,  had  an 
ominous  sound.  He  was  powerful  and  he  could, 
as  he  said,  make  trouble  for  her.  She  must  in 
some  way  discover  where  Norine  was,  and  her 
friends,  the  Knights  of  the  Golden  Gate,  who  had 
been  also  accused,  must  help  her.  It  was  not  im 
possible  that  they  knew  something  about  the  matter, 
for  now  her  suspicions  of  the  Grand  Commander's 
words  came  back  to  her. 

"  You  must  remember  that  I  prophesied  this," 
he  had  said,  and  again,  "  We  fooled  them,  this 
time ! "  Could  it  be  possible  that  the  mincing, 
pretty,  asinine  schoolmaster  possessed  spirit  enough 
to  plan  an  abduction  ?  She  could  not  believe 
it.  She  wished  Tom  Parrish  were  here  to  advise 
her. 

Throwing  on  a  wrap  she  went  down-stairs  alone, 
evading  the  chaperones,  picked  her  way  through 
the  crowded  streets,  and  reached  the  headquarters 
of  the  Knights  of  the  Golden  Gate.  The  place 
was  boiling  with  riotous  youths  in  uniform,  for  the 
San  Jose  Commandery  was  keeping  open  house 
for  the  refreshment  of  the  visiting  Knights.  There 
[132] 


THE  QUEST 

was  a  babel  of  talk  and  laughter  and  a  great  scur 
rying  of  waiters  with  plates  and  glasses. 

The  Queen  appeared  to  be  the  only  woman  in 
the  place,  but  she  was  too  excited  to  be  embar 
rassed.  She  approached  the  first  man  she  met 
and  asked  for  the  Grand  Commander.  She  was 
shown  upstairs  to  a  room  where  he  was  entertain 
ing  several  high  officers  of  the  Order. 

He  came  forward  to  greet  her  with  a  look  of 
great  surprise,  and  the  visitors  arose  to  leave  the 
room.  Isyl  detained  them  with  a  gesture. 

"  Please  remain,  gentlemen,  she  said,  regally,  "  I 
have  come  on  official  business  and  I  need  your  help. 
It  is  a  matter  which  concerns  the  honour  of  the 
Knights  of  the  Golden  Gate !  " 

She  was  then  introduced  to  the  several  Worship 
ful  Scribes,  Senior  Wardens,  Seneschals,  Guardians 
of  the  Seal,  Chancellors  and  so  on,  but  would  not 
be  seated,  and  stood  proudly  erect  while  she  told 
her  story,  first  asking  of  them  a  pledge  of  secrecy. 

Isyl  was  young  and  pretty;  the  pageantry  and 
ceremonies  of  the  Fiesta  had  given  her  a  position 
which,  if  not  serious,  was  picturesque.  The  scene 
was  dramatic.  The  Knights,  having  played  at  this 
romantic  game  in  lodge  and  conclave,  all  titled  and 
[133] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ISYL 

bearing  their  secret  insignia,  knowing  pass-word  and 
countersign,  grip  and  symbol,  felt  the  spirit  of  ad 
venture  stir  merrily  within  them.  They  eagerly 
consented  to  undertake  the  quest,  and  promised  the 
Queen  their  allegiance.  One  and  all  protested 
ignorance  of  any  knowledge  of  Miss  Almeric's 
whereabouts,  and  denied  having  plotted  to  place 
their  candidate  upon  the  throne.  Indeed,  it  seemed 
that  these  high  officers  rather  regretted  not  having 
thought  of  so  attractively  desperate  a  conspiracy. 

The  Grand  Commander  stood  somewhat  aloof, 
sulkily.  His  resentment  against  the  Queen  for  the 
way  she  had,  as  he  thought,  trifled  with  him,  was 
embarrassing  now,  when  she  came  to  ask  favours 
at  his  hands.  But  upon  reflection  he  was  glad  of 
it.  Nothing  would  serve  his  petty  spite  better  than 
that  his  scorner  should  be  dethroned,  and  her  rival 
reinstated.  So  he,  too,  pledged  himself  willingly  to 
the  effort  to  find  Miss  Almeric. 

She  gave  them  the  only  hint  of  Norine's  move 
ments  that  she  knew,  and  it  was  decided  first  to 
mount  and  ride  out  to  Golcher's  to  see  what  might 
be  found  there.  It  was  five  o'clock  when  they  de 
scended  and  sent  urgent  orders  for  their  horses. 

As  Isyl  walked  away  from  the  Headquarters,  es- 
[134] 


THE  QUEST 

corted  by  a  visiting  Knight,  she  was  abstracted 
and  answered  her  companion's  questions  and  re 
marks  vaguely,  for  her  thoughts  were  chiefly  with 
the  mysterious  stranger  who  had  helped  her  before, 
when  she  most  needed  a  friend. 

She  looked  up  from  her  musing,  and  there  he 
was ;  but  to  her  disappointment,  not  alone.  He 
stood  in  a  doorway  in  conversation  with  a  young 
girl  whom  he  was  addressing  earnestly,  and,  as 
it  seemed,  familiarly.  Isyl  needed  only  a  glance  as 
she  passed  to  scrutinise  her  from  head  to  foot.  The 
girl  was  facing  her.  She  had  a  swarthy,  handsome 
countenance,  with  coal  black  hair.  She  was  dressed 
in  a  red  flannelette  shirt-waist,  and  Isyl  did  not  ap 
prove  of  her.  Tom  did  not  see  the  two  as  they  passed. 

As  she  was  driven  home  to  the  Willows,  Isyl 
saw  the  couple  again.  They  were  passing  the  Post 
Office,  and  this  time  they  were  side  by  side  in  a 
buggy;  Tom  was  driving  furiously  up  Market 
Street  toward  the  Alameda.  It  was  all  the  Queen 
could  do  to  keep  back  her  tears  and  talk  composedly. 

Meanwhile,  the  Knights,  booted  and  spurred, 

had  set  out,  a  cavalcade  of  some  half  dozen  riders, 

and  pelted  down  First  Street  with  small  regard  for 

the  comfort  of  pedestrians.     They  clattered  under 

[135] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ISYL 
the  tall  electric  light  tower  at  a  Spanish  trot,  sing 
ing  and  jesting,  and,  once  out  of  the  crowd,  settled 
into  a  lope  that  brought  them,  in  three-quarters  of 
an  hour,  to  within  sight  of  Golcher's. 

The  party  was  cantering  up  to  the  road-house 
when  they  suddenly  heard  a  woman's  voice  scream 
ing.  They  drew  rein  and  called  to  each  other  in  sur 
prise — the  adventure  was  becoming  more  serious 
than  they  had  expected.  The  Grand  Commander 
spurred  forward  like  a  hero,  and  the  rest  followed 
him.  Pulling  up  at  the  watering-trough  they 
threw  themselves  from  their  saddles.  By  this  time 
the  screams  had  stopped,  and  the  silence  alarmed 
them  more  than  the  shrieks  had  done. 

The  front  door  was  locked,  the  windows  were 
fastened.  They  went  round  to  the  back  of  the 
house,  and  all  was  closed  securely.  The  place 
seemed  deserted  except  for  a  bull-dog  chained  and 
growling  savagely  in  the  yard.  The  Knights  held 
a  consultation  on  the  front  porch,  and,  while  one 
drew  a  revolver,  the  Grand  Commander  put  his 
foot  through  a  pane  of  glass,  lifted  the  sash  and 
climbed  in.  The  rest  followed  him.  They  trod 
lightly,  as  if  afraid  of  the  sound  of  their  own  foot 
falls,  and  spoke  in  whispers.  The  room  was  empty, 
[136] 


THE  QUEST 

so  was  the  little  white  dining-room,  so  was  the 
kitchen. 

As  they  were  about  to  investigate  the  upper  story, 
the  Grand  Commander  dashed  over  to  a  corner  of 
the  room  and  picked  up  a  heavy  wrap.  It  was  a 
black  velvet  cape,  lined  with  ermine. 

"That's  Norine  Almeric's  cape!"  he  cried. 
"She  was  to  have  worn  it  at  the  coronation — I 
know  it,  because  it  was  rented  from  Cohen's  cos 
tume  place  for  fifty  dollars,  with  the  crown  and 
jewels.  She  must  be  here  in  the  house ! " 

At  that  moment  a  startling  shriek  came  from  the 
room  directly  over  their  heads.  Then  all  was  still 
again. 

The  Grand  Commander  trembled,  hesitating,  but 
a  Worshipful  Scribe,  he  with  the  revolver,  took 
the  lead.  "  Come  on,  boys,"  he  called,  "  let's  look 
upstairs." 

They  followed  him  up  to  a  landing  where  were 
three  closed  doors.  Two  rooms  were  found  to  be 
empty ;  the  third  door  was  locked.  The  Grand 
Commander  peeped  through  the  keyhole,  but  could 
see  nothing.  "  Who's  in  there  ?  "  he  cried. 

"  Oh,  for  God's  sake  let  me  out,"  a  woman  an 
swered. 

[137] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ISYL 

"  Who  are  you  ?  "  asked  the  Grand  Commander. 

"Let  me  out,  can't  you?  I'm  locked  in!"  she 
screamed. 

Two  of  the  Knights  threw  themselves  at  the  door 
with  violence,  the  bolt  broke  free,  and  they  fell  into 
the  room.  There,  standing  by  the  window,  a  hand 
kerchief  to  her  mouth,  was  a  handsome  young 
woman  of  swarthy  complexion,  dressed  in  a  red 
flannelette  shirt-waist. 

"  Oh,  thank  you,  so  much ! "  she  exclaimed.  "  I 
was  afraid  I'd  never  get  out ! " 

"How  did  you  get  in?  That's  the  question," 
said  the  Grand  Commander,  sternly.  He  was  dis 
appointed.  So  were  the  Knights.  "How  in 
thunder  do  you  happen  to  be  locked  into  a  room  in 
a  deserted  house,  that's  what  I'd  like  to  know,  and 
who  are  you,  anyway?"  All  the  pedagogue  in 
him  was  manifest  in  his  tone. 

"  My  name,"  said  the  girl  in  the  red  waist,  "  is 
Dolores  del  Robles.  But  how  I  happened  to  be 
here,  locked  in  this  room — that  is  a  long  story." 

"  Before  you  tell  that,  then,  miss,  tell  me — have 
you  seen  Miss  Almeric  here  in  this  house  ?  " 

"  A  tall  young  lady,  with  light  hair,  dressed  in  a 
beautiful  white  dress  ?  " 

[138] 


THE  QUEST 

"  Yes,  that's  Norine,"  they  exclaimed.  "  Where 
is  she?" 

"Ah,  I  do  not  know.  She  was  in  this  room. 
She  went  away.  It  is  a  part  of  the  story !  " 

"Then  tell  it,  for  Heaven's  sake!"  cried  the 
Grand  Commander.  "  Come  down-stairs  and 
we'll  light  up,  first,  though." 

They  went  down,  but  the  girl,  asking  to  be  ex 
cused  while  she  arranged  her  hair,  watched  them 
descend.  As  soon  as  they  were  out  of  sight,  she 
ran  quickly  into  one  of  the  other  rooms  whose  win 
dows  opened  to  the  East,  overlooking  the  back  of 
the  house.  She  softly  raised  the  sash,  and  looked 
out.  Beside  the  stable  a  buckboard  was  standing. 
It  held  two  persons,  a  tall  girl  and  a  man.  "  Keep 
them  for  half  an  hour,  if  you  can ! "  he  called,  just 
loud  enough  for  her  to  hear.  The  girl  in  the  flan 
nelette  waist  waved  her  handkerchief,  as  the  man 
took  the  reins  and  drove  hastily  away. 

Senorita  Dolores  then  descended  the  stairs  and 
found  the  knights  impatiently  awaiting  her.  They 
arose,  offered  her  a  chair  and  she  began 


[139] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ISYL 

The  Distressed  Damsel's  Story 

A  DISCIPLE  OF  CERVANTES 

Or,  Love  Insidious 

*  I  ^HE  Ulistac  Rancho  is  all  that  is  left  of 
the  Canada  de  Santa  Teresa,  a  seven- 
league  grant  in  the  Santa  Clara  Valley, 
and  Seiior  Rodriguez  and  his  daughter  Ynez  are 
all  that  is  left  of  the  Ulistac  family,  who  received 
their  land  directly  from  King  Carlos  IV.  of  Spain, 
in  recognition  of  distinguished  services  to  the  crown. 
The  Santa  Teresa  Rancho  was  a  small  kingdom,  in 
early  days,  and  the  Ulistacs  were  the  proudest  and 
richest  family  in  Alta  California.  God  knows  they 
are  proud  enough  now,  but  their  land  has  been 
stolen  from  them,  league  by  league,  ever  since  the 
Gringo  came.  There  are  now  sixteen  hundred 
acres  of  the  most  fertile  land  in  the  county,  though 
there  are  but  two  Ulistacs  left  to  share  it. 

The  old  Senor  is  a  Spanish  gentleman  of  the 
old  school,  fiery,  astute,  and  polished.  He  is  a 
quaint  talker,  reading  much  in  the  old  books  he 
keeps  in  his  hacienda.  He  is  especially  fond  of 
Cervantes,  whose  words  he  is  always  quoting. 
[140] 


THE  QUEST 

When  his  son  died,  the  old  Senor  made  a  vow, 
and,  Jesu !  he  has  had  hard  work  enough  keeping 
it!  He  swore  to  the  Virgin  at  the  old  Mission 
San  Jose  that  his  ranch  should  never  be  cut  up,  and 
that  his  daughter  should  never  inherit  it  until  he  had 
found  a  husband  who  would  promise  to  keep  the 
ranch  whole.  Now  it  was  not  easy  to  find  a  fit 
ting  son-in-law,  for,  besides  his  vow,  the  Senor  had 
many  other  things  to  be  satisfied  upon. 

Now  the  fame  of  the  Ulistac  Rancho  and  the 
beauty  of  the  Senorita  Ynez  has  long  been  spread 
over  California,  for  it  is  the  fattest  pig  for  which 
the  first  knife  is  whetted.  Every  young  Spaniard 
in  the  country  has  tried  for  the  ranch  and  the 
sefiorita,  for  it  is  not  often  that  one  can  get  two 
such  fortunes  for  the  asking.  Ever  since  Ynez 
came  home  from  the  convent  in  Andalusia,  suitors 
for  her  hand  have  been  coming  to  see  the  old 
Senor.  They  have  come  from  San  Luis  Rey  and 
Sonoma,  and  the  Soquel,  from  Los  Angeles  and 
Santa  Barbara,  and  even  from  San  Diego — and 
every  one  of  them  has  gone  home  again  with  his 
cigarette  out,  as  we  say.  No  one  could  please  the 
Senor.  He  would  keep  each  of  them  three  days, 
for  the  Ulistacs  are  hospitable  even  for  Spaniards, 
[141] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ISYL 

and  in  one  way  or  another  the  old  man  would  test 
the  young  senors  and  find  them  never  so  shrewd  as 
he,  nor  ever  fit  to  be  the  husband  of  Sefiorita  Ynez. 
For  the  Sefior  knows  men  as  priests  know  the 
holy  mass.  He  is  a  keen  judge  of  human  nature, 
and  he  is  never  mistaken — so  he  thinks !  But  he 
was  fooled  once,  and  that  is  why  I,  Dolores,  second 
cousin  of  the  Senorita  Ynez,  am  here,  telling  you 
this  story. 

Although  my  mother  was  an  Ulistac,  my  father 
was  of  meaner  blood,  and  so  it  is,  that  while  I  live 
at  the  hacienda  and  am  the  friend  and  confidante 
of  the  Senorita  Ynez,  I  am  more  than  half  servant, 
too,  and  am  not  really  taken  into  the  family,  which 
is  a  sore  trial  to  me.  So  I  was  the  first  one  to  see 
the  Senor  Pedro  del  Mar,  when,  last  month,  he 
drove  up  into  our  yard  and  called  to  me  to  tie  up 
his  pinto  mare.  How  I  have  hated  him,  ever 
since ! 

The  Senor  del  Mar  was  a  saucy  youth  with  a 
few  hairs  of  moustache  and  an  impertinent  smile  as 
if  he  were  the  owner  of  the  mountains  and  the  sky 
and  sea  and  moon  itself.  Jesu !  one  would  have 
thought  that  it  was  San  Jose  himself  come  down 
from  Heaven  to  be  worshipped!  Before  I  had 
[142] 


THE  QUEST 

rime  to  box  his  ears  for  his  freedom  with  my  chin, 
the  Senor  came  out  of  the  patio. 

"  Buenos  dios ! "  said  the  stranger,  and  he  swept 
a  bow  in  the  old  style.  "  Senor,  you  have  a  very 
pretty  little  rancho.  It  suits  me  perfectly  and  it  is 
all  that  has  been  said  of  it,  so  I  am  come  to  marry 
your  daughter.  And  may  God  grant  that  she  be  as 
pretty  as  the  ranch,  though  as  for  that,  I  doubt  it ! " 

"  My  humble  rancho  and  all  upon  it  are  yours,** 
said  the  old  Senor  in  turn,  "  and  may  I  never  see 
another  such  audacious  senor  without  having  a  gun 
in  my  hand,  or  a  dog  to  set  on  him.  Whom  have 
I  the  honour  of  addressing,  if  it  pleases  your  imper 
tinence  ?  " 

"  I  am  the  Senor  Manuel  del  Mar  de  Los  Prie- 
tos  y  Bolbones,"  he  said,  "  and  it  behooves  us  to 
get  acquainted,  since  we  are  to  live  the  rest  of  our 
lives  together  peacefully  under  your  fig-trees  here. 
How  many  head  of  cattle  do  you  run  ?  " 

I  momentarily  expected  the  old  Senor  would 
draw  a  knife,  but  instead  there  was  a  twinkle  in  his 
eye  and  he  answered  the  question  as  politely  as  if 
the  priest  had  asked  it. 

"  Four  hundred  head  of  the  best  stock,"  he  said, 
"  and  they  are  of  course  yours,  if  you  will  deign  to 
[143] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ISYL 
accept  them,  but  as  for  being  my  son-in-law,  I  re 
member  the  Master  says  *  every  man  is  the  son  of 
his  own  works/  and  you  have  done  little  yet  save 
insult  me,  to  deserve  the  title.  However,  since 
you  deign  to  visit  me,  come  into  the  patio  and  we 
will  talk  together." 

As  the  two  went  in,  the  Senor  gave  me  a  word 
to  prepare  a  soup  he  knew  of,  for  this  was  one  of 
the  ways  he  tested  the  wits  of  the  suitors.  So  I 
went  into  the  kitchen  and  made  ready  the  dinner. 

The  Senor  bowed  the  young  man  in  as  if  he 
were  welcoming  a  Grandee,  and  when  they  sat 
down  to  the  table  I  watched  to  see  how  the  youth 
would  act.  For  you  must  know  the  soup  was  hot 
with  fire  and  hotter  still  with  chili  caliente,  so  that 
it  would  burn  one's  mouth  like  a  red  coal,  and 
many  a  young  man  had  not  stood  the  test  with 
comfort. 

Senor  del  Mar  took  one  spoonful  of  soup,  and 
then  jumped  up  and  ran  to  the  door  as  if  the  Fiend 
were  after  him,  and  then  came  back  in  a  rage. 

"  Caramba !     Santa  Maria  de  los  Centos  Ange 
les  ! "  he  cried.     "  Where  is  your  pump,  sefior,  for 
the  pity  of  the  damned  in  Hell !     Is  that  the  way 
you  entertain  a  senor  who  has  come  five  hundred 
[144] 


THE  QUEST 

miles  to  honour  you?  Keep  the  rest  of  that  infer 
nal  mess  to  light  your  fires  with,  or  to  scald  your 
pigs !  Do  you  think  I  want  to  drink  burning  brim 
stone  before  my  time  ?  " 

The  old  Senor  laughed  as  I  have  never  seen  him 
laugh  before.  "  Ah,  he  is  no  fool,  this  youngster,'* 
he  chuckled  to  himself. 

And  he  opened  a  bottle  from  a  corner  of  the  cel 
lar  I  had  never  seen  used  before. 

When  they  had  finished  dinner  the  young  man 
said,  "  Suppose  you  allow  the  Senorita  the  pleasure 
of  looking  upon  her  future  husband,  Senor.  I  con 
fess  I  would  like  to  see  if  she  is  pretty  enough  for 
me  to  wed." 

"  A  little  in  one's  own  pocket  is  better  than  much 
in  another's,"  quoted  the  Senor,  "  and  you  have  not 
yet  won  my  daughter.  But  what  a  man  doesn't 
ask  for,  he  doesn't  get.  The  Senorita  is  a  bit  coy, 
and  the  meeting  will  wait  till  I  am  through  with 
you.  Suppose  we  ride  over  the  ranch  together  this 
afternoon." 

"  It  is  well,"  the  youth  said,  "  for  I  was  thinking 
of  a  few  improvements  that  should  be  made." 

So,  as  they  went  outside  the  Senor  said  to  me, 
"  Tell  Pedro  to  saddle  Angel  and  Diablo  quickly !  " 
[145] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ISYL 

When  the  horses  were  brought  up,  the  Seiior*s 
thoroughbred  was  given  to  him,  but  to  Senor  del 
Mar,  Pedro  led  a  galled,  spavined,  blind  broncho 
who  held  his  ears  back  and  his  head  low.  Also, 
he  stumbled  badly.  When  the  young  Senor  saw 
the  sorry  nag  that  was  given  him,  while  his  host  had 
a  fine  horse  to  ride,  he  walked  back  into  the  patio 
and  lay  down  in  a  hammock. 

"  Jesu !  but  it  is  hot  to-day ! "  he  yawned.  "  I 
think  we  had  better  wait  till  it  is  cooler,  Senor,  and 
smoke  a  few  cigarettes  in  the  shade.*' 

The  old  Senor  smiled  and  he  rubbed  his  hands 
gleefully,  for  many  a  man,  out  of  politeness,  and  for 
the  sake  of  winning  Ynez,  had  been  glad  to  ride  the 
galled  jade. 

"  You  can  see  farther  into  a  millstone  than  some," 
he  said  to  Senor  del  Mar,  "yet  you  may  be  more 
knave  than  fool.  Also  fear  is  sharp-sighted  and  I 
would  be  sure  that  you  are  a  man  as  lusty  and  green 
as  I,  in  my  old  age.  The  Ulistacs  have  always  been 
known  for  their  endurance  and  strength,  and  so  must 
be  any  who  marry  with  us.  My  uncle  won  my 
grandfather's  consent  that  he  should  wed  my  aunt 
Maria  del  Pilar,  by  taming  a  broncho  when  his  own 
shoulder  was  broken.  When  I  was  at  school  in 
[146] 


THE  QUEST 

Spain  I  made  the  pilgrimage  to  Valladolid  with  peas 
in  my  shoes.  It  is  a  good  test,  and  a  hard  one. 
So,  suppose  we  see  if  we  can  walk  from  here  to  the 
corral  thus."  And  he  brought  out  a  handful  of 
dried  peas. 

'  *  Go  easy,  go  far,'  says  your  own  Master  Cer 
vantes,*'  replied  Senor  del  Mar.  "  If  you  wish  to 
walk  with  peas  in  your  shoes  for  your  own  sins, 
why,  you  do  the  walking  and  I'll  do  the  praying. 
I  have  heard  that  the  prayer  of  one  wise  man  is 
worth  the  entreaty  of  fifty  fools ! " 

The  old  Senor  grasped  his  hand,  laughing,  and 
he  said,  "Well  said,  O  my  son-in-law,  and  now 

we  will  drink  another  bottle  and  send  for  the  Sen- 

•     »» 
onta. 

When  I  went  up  to  call  the  Senorita  Ynez,  you 
may  imagine  I  was  in  a  blaze  at  the  impertinence 
of  the  young  del  Mar,  and  when  she  asked  me  of 
him  I  put  a  flea  in  her  ear. 

"  The  Senor  has  been  gracious  enough  to  accept 
your  hand,"  I  said,  "  though  indeed  it  seems  that 
you  are  only  thrown  into  the  scales  to  make  up  for 
the  land's  scantiness  since  the  last  fifty  varas  was 
got  by  the  Railroad.  I  never  saw  such  a  braggart 
out  of  a  book,  and  he  is  now  telling  your  father  of 
[147] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ISYL 
the  beauties  of  San  Juan  Capistrano,  all  of  whom 
are,  it  seems,  madly  in  love  with  him !     He  doubts 
if  you  can  be  as  beautiful,  Senorita,  so  you  had  bet 
ter  put  some  paint  on  your  cheeks ! " 

Jesu !  but  she  was  angry,  and  I  feared  I  had  gone 
too  far  with  my  words.  But  she  said : 

"I  will  show  him  if  I  am,  and  without  paint, 
either,  and  I  will  also  show  him  other  things,  Santa 
Ysabel  helping  me !  " 

So  she  went  down. 

"  Ynez,"  said  the  old  man,  "  this  is  Senor  Manuel 
del  Mar  de  los  Prietos  y  Bolbones,  your  future 
husband.  Salute  your  bride,  my  son-in-law  ! " 

Senorita  Ynez  went  red  as  fire  as  she  said, 

"One  moment,  Senor.  The  property  first,  the 
wife  afterward.  Have  you  kissed  the  deeds  of  the 
Santa  Teresa  Grant?" 

"Jesu,  your  daughter  is  a  spitfire,  but  she  is 
pretty,"  said  the  young  man.  "  It  will  be  no  trouble 
to  kiss  her !  " 

"  It  will  be  a  good  deal  of  trouble,  by  the  Holy 
Virgin ! "  Ynez  exclaimed.  "  You  had  better  finish 
your  wine,  for  the  kiss  will  wait.  As  for  me,  I 
shall  not!"  and  she  ran  upstairs  and  cried  and 
stamped  her  feet  till  the  adobe  fell  from  the  walls. 
[148] 


THE  QUEST 

"  The  fewer  the  kisses  the  tighter  the  knot,"  said 
the  old  man,  trying  to  smooth  things  over,  for  now 
he  was  bound  that  the  Senor  del  Mar  should  be 
his  son-in-law.  So  they  sat  and  drank  our  red 
wine,  talking  over  the  rancho  and  how  it  would 
never  be  cut  up  into  lots  as  the  Gringo  wished. 
Twice  they  sent  for  more  bottles,  and  when  I  saw 
that  they  were  finished  with  the  business  and  were 
talking  about  Ynez,  I  listened  in  the  shadow  near 
the  window. 

"  May  the  Saints  forgive  me,  but  women  are 
like  pigs,"  the  old  man  was  saying.  "  Drive  them 
away  from  the  gate  if  you  want  them  to  go  through 
it.  Ah,  Senor,  I  know  women!  I  have  been 
young,  too,  in  my  time ! " 

The  Senor  del  Mar  laughed  loudly  and  long,  for 
our  Muscatel  is  a  heady  wine,  and  he  had  been 
drinking  freely  of  the  bottle.  "  Yes,  yes,"  he  said, 
"  I  know  that,  Senor.  There  was  a  woman  at  Los 
Pulchas- 

"Ynez  says  she  will  not  accept  you,"  the  old 
man  went  on,  "  but  *  yes  *  is  as  short  a  word  as  *  no.' 
If  we  are  to  lasso  the  girl,  let  us  grease  our  riata 
with  a  little  thought.  You  are  a  fine  fellow  and 
have  a  head  on  your  shoulders.  Bueno.  You  open 
[149] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ISYL 
the  gate  and  I  will  drive  her  harshly  away  from  it. 
Caramba !     She'll  run  through  in  a  minute.     Do 
you  understand,  or  must  I  crack  the  nut  to  show 
you  the  kernel?" 

"  It  is  as  plain  as  the  nose  on  your  face,  as  Cer 
vantes  himself  says,"  said  the  young  man. 

"  Well  then,  agreed.  You  insult  me.  I  drive 
you  away.  You  come  back  to  court  the  girl,  I  fire 
upon  you.  I  forbid  her  to  leave,  therefore  she  flies 
with  you.  Behold,  the  pig  is  through  the  fence !  " 
And  they  both  laughed  uproariously  to  think  how 
clever  they  were. 

I  went  up  and  told  the  Senorita,  and  together  we 
planned  how  to  make  fools  of  the  two  men  who 
knew  women — especially  one  at  Los  Pulchas,  for 
I  did  not  forget  to  repeat  that. 

The  next  day  as  the  two  men  sat  outside,  the  old 
Senor  asked  the  young  man  for  a  fire  for  his  ciga 
rette,  and  Senor  del  Mar  handed  his  own  cigarette, 
lighted  end  first,  which,  you  know,  is  not  according 
to  Spanish  etiquette,  and  a  great  insult. 

Jesu !  but  there  was  a  scene  like  a  theatre  while 
we  watched. 

"Senor,"  said  Senor  Ulistac,  "you  have  criti 
cised   my  house,  my  ranch,  my   cattle   and   my 
[150] 


THE  QUEST 

daughter,  but  I  will  not  stand  a  boor  who  does 
not  know  how  to  pass  a  cigarette.  Men  have 
been  killed  for  less  than  this,  in  my  time,  and  I 
give  you  four  minutes  to  leave  this  place  before  I 
fire  on  you  ! " 

Senor  del  Mar  arose,  and  when  his  horse  was 
brought  he  rode  away,  not  without  some  words  to 
show  how  brave  he  was.  Faugh !  as  if  he  could 
fool  us! 

"  I  shall  still  consider  myself  the  lover  of  the  ra 
diant  Senorita  Ynez ! "  he  cried,  as  he  left,  and  he 
waved  his  hat  to  her  as  if  he  were  already  mar 
ried.  She  stared  at  him,  acting  her  part,  too,  as 
well  as  he. 

The  old  Senor  forbade  Ynez  to  leave  the  place, 
and  she  pretended  to  be  greatly  angry  at  it.  That 
night  she  heard  a  sound  at  her  window,  and  when 
she  opened  it,  there  was  Senor  del  Mar  ready  to 
make  love  to  her.  When  she  had  talked  to  him 
through  the  blind  for  a  few  minutes,  the  old  Senor 
discovered  them,  and  ran  out  and  began  to  shoot 
his  gun,  and  the  young  man  fled  away.  So,  for 
several  nights  he  came,  and  the  Senorita  wept  to 
herself  when  her  father  was  looking.  He  swore 
at  her  and  accused  her  of  loving  Senor  del  Mar, 

[151] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ISYL 
and  said  if  she  once  saw  him  she  would  be  put  in 
a  convent. 

At  last  the  comedy  reached  a  crisis,  and  a  note 
was  brought  to  the  Senorita,  asking  her  to  elope 
with  the  young  del  Mar.  You  should  have  seen 
her  face  when  she  read  it!  But  the  time  had 
come  for  what  we  had  planned. 

She  sent  back  a  note,  therefore,  saying  that,  as 
she  was  not  allowed  to  leave  the  house,  she  would 
meet  him,  disguised  in  my  clothes,  for  I,  of  course, 
was  allowed  full  liberty  to  go  and  come.  He  was 
to  meet  her  at  the  oaks  near  the  county  road, 
being  ready  with  a  waggon. 

The  elopement  was  planned  for  last  night,  and 
so,  at  nine  o'clock,  after  the  house  was  still,  I  threw 
on  a  cloak,  and  ran  all  the  way  down  to  the  road, 
for  I  was  frightened.  It  was  dark,  and  I  feared 
lest  the  old  Senor  would  be  in  pursuit,  as  part  of 
the  game.  If  he  discovered  that  it  was  not  his 
daughter  who  was  running  away,  I  knew  he  would 
be  terribly  enraged.  As  for  the  young  Senor,  I 
trusted  that  I  could  deceive  him,  as  he  did  not 
know  Senorita  Ynez  very  well,  having  had  but 
little  talk  with  her. 

Senor  del  Mar  was  waiting  in  the  waggon,  and 
[152] 


THE  QUEST 

when  I  reached  the  place  he  jumped  down,  helped 
me  up  on  the  seat,  and  drove  off.  Just  then  we 
heard  a  pistol-shot  behind  us,  and  we  knew  that 
Senor  Ulistac  was  following  us,  as  a  part  of  the 
joke. 

Sefior  del  Mar  whipped  his  horses,  and  we  raced 
at  a  terrible  speed,  so  fast  that  he  had  no  time  to 
speak  much  to  me,  or  discover  that  I  was  not  Ynez. 
The  old  Senor  followed  for  many  miles,  shooting 
occasionally.  How  we  laughed  at  him,  each  of 
us  for  a  different  reason ! 

Finally,  there  was  no  shooting,  and  Senor  del 
Mar  slowed  down  his  horse,  and  said, 

"  Now,  Senorita  Ynez,  I  will  have  that  kiss  I 
have  been  so  long  waiting  for  !  " 

Then  I  threw  off  my  hood,  and  I  said,  calmly, 
"You  have  talked  of  driving  pigs,  Senor,  but,  as 
Cervantes  says,  this  time  you  have  the  wrong  sow 
by  the  ear  !  As  for  the  kiss,  you  may  get  it  of  the 
woman  at  Los  Pulchas,  if  you  need  it ! " 

Then  I  jumped  from  the  waggon  and  ran  away 
in  the  dark,  leaving  him  so  frightfully  angry  that  I 
dared  not  listen  to  him.  I  walked  two  or  three 
miles  till  I  came  to  this  house. 

So  much  for  the  Senorita  Ynez,  whom  I  hope  to 
[153] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ISYL 
see  to-morrow — now  for,  what  was  her  name? — 
Miss  Almeric. 

Well,  I  came  to  this  house,  and  the  windows 
were  lighted,  and  I  heard  men  singing  loudly,  so  I 
passed  round  to  the  back,  thinking  I  might  find 
a  woman  by  the  kitchen  door.  While  I  was  in 
the  yard  I  saw  an  upper  window  opened  and 
a  woman  looked  out.  She  called  down  to  me, 
softly. 

"  I  am  locked  in  here,"  she  said,  "  and  I  cannot 
get  out !  Do  you  think  you  can  help  me  ?  I  will 
pay  you." 

Looking  about  the  yard  I  saw  a  ladder,  and 
after  hard  work  I  succeeded  in  standing  it  against 
the  wall  of  the  house.  Then  I  climbed  up,  and 
entered  the  window. 

The  lady  was  in  a  white  satin  dress,  quite  beau 
tiful,  and  she  said,  softly,  "  Listen !  If  you  will 
stay  here  in  my  place,  so  as  to  give  me  a  chance 
to  escape  unnoticed,  I  will  pay  you  well.  Just  sit 
down  here,  and  be  sure  you  cry  rather  loudly,  oc 
casionally,  so  that  the  men  below  will  know  there 
is  still  someone  here." 

I  was  not  afraid  of  them,  so  I  consented.     She 
went  down  the  ladder,  and  removed  it,  and  then 
[154] 


THE  BANQUET 

went  away  into  the  dark.  I  stayed  here  all  night 
alone,  and  early  in  the  morning  the  company  of 
men  left  and  locked  the  house,  after  saying  through 
the  keyhole — "  Don't  be  afraid,  someone  will  surely 
let  you  out  soon !  "  So  I  waited,  tired  and  hungry, 
till  now.  It  is  all  very  strange.  I  do  not  under 
stand  it !  Do  you  ? 


VII 
THE  BANQUET 

^1  HOW  the  Chamberlain  conspired  to  see  the 
Queen  s  ring  privity,  and  enticed  her  into  captivity. 
How  she  was  succoured  by  Sir  Tomas  the  Scalawag, 
and  held  in  hostage :  The  Tale  of  Love  Recusant. 

KIT  WILKINSON,  the  Chamberlain  of  the 
Fiesta  court,  was,  in  private  life,  a  lawyer 
and  politician.     His  entire  patronage  de 
pended  upon  his  association  with  Bob  Almeric, 
whose  creature  he  was.     And  so,  when  the  county 
boss  came  to  him  at  seven  o'clock  that  evening 
with  a  scowl  on  his  face,  the  Chamberlain,  dress- 
[155] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ISYL 
ing  for  the  court  banquet,  knew  that   something 
serious  was  the  matter. 

They  had  talked  before,  that  day,  on  the  subject 
of  Norine's  disappearance,  but  her  continued  ab 
sence  had  made  Almeric's  anxiety  greater  every 
minute.  So  far,  he  had  spoken  of  it  to  no  one  ex 
cept  Kit  Wilkinson  and  Isyl,  hoping  that  she  might 
return  at  any  minute.  But  by  this  afternoon  the 
rumour  had  grown  that  Norine  was  not  at  home. 
Several  persons  had  seen  her  at  the  window  of  the 
"  Star "  Hotel,  and  gossip  was  busy.  The  boss 
had  succeeded  in  mystifying  the  newspaper  men, 
but  the  thing  was  worrying  him.  He  was  anxious 
and  furious  at  once. 

"  Now  see  here,  Wilkinson,"  he  said  to  the 
Chamberlain,  "  do  you  think  I  like  this  ?  Isn't  it 
enough  for  her  to  go  back  on  the  *  Drag  *  without 
making  me  worry  whether  she's  safe  or  not,  away 
all  night  like  this?  How'll  it  look  in  the  news 
papers  ?  " 

"  Oh,  Norine's  all  right,  I  guess.  It's  only  one 
of  her  larks,"  said  the  Chamberlain,  in  a  concilia 
tory  tone. 

"  Yes,  you'd  think  so,  if  you  saw  what  I  saw, 
to-day,"  said  Bob  Almeric.    "  You  know  that  Shea 
[156] 


THE  BANQUET 

girl ;  well,  I'm  damned  if  she  ain't  wearing  Norine's 
sapphire  ring !    What  does  that  look  like,  hey  ?  " 

"  Norine's  ring ! " 

"  It  looked  mighty  like  it,  when  I  saw  it  on  her 
finger,  this  afternoon,  and  when  she  wouldn't  let  me 
see  it,  I  was  sure." 

"Well,  what  can  we  do  about  it?  I  don't  see 
how  we  can  force  her  to  show  it ! " 

"  I'll  tell  you  what  we're  going  to  do.  We're 
going  to  put  on  the  screws — and  to-night,  too !  " 

"  I'd  make  sure  about  the  ring  before  I  did  that." 

"  That's  exactly  what  I  have  got  to  have  done. 
And  you're  going  to  do  it,"  said  the  boss. 

"Me?" 

"You,"  said  the  boss,  with  a  gesture  peculiarly 
his  own  ;  "  you  find  out  about  it  to-night,  see  ?  " 

The  Chamberlain  saw,  and  what  he  saw  was 
not  pleasant  to  contemplate.  He  would  lose  his 
influence  with  the  "  Drag  "  if  he  refused. 

"  It's  a  hard  job,"  he  said. 

"You've  done  harder  ones,  Wilkinson.  Re 
member, — sapphire  with  red  gold  setting,  and 
Norine's  name.  It's  your  business  to  get  a  look  at 
the  inside.  And  after  you've  made  sure  of  it,  this 
is  what  you're  to  do." 

[157] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ISYL 

The  instructions  that  followed  put  a  frown 
between  the  Chamberlain's  eyes,  but  before  Bob 
Almeric  left,  his  henchman  had  bowed  to  the  rod 
of  power,  as  the  boss's  henchmen  always  did.  He 
promised  to  obey,  even  to  the  letter.  Under  the 
circumstances,  he  looked  forward  to  the  banquet 
with  little  pleasure.  Only  the  fact  that  he  had  been 
able  to  place  beside  himself  at  the  table  one  of  his 
favourite  Maids-of-Honour  reconciled  him  to  the 
prospect. 

When  the  Chamberlain  reached  the  Hotel 
Vendome,  court  and  guests  were  assembled  in  the 
waiting-room.  The  Queen  had  not  yet  arrived. 
All  were  chatting  in  the  lively  manner  of  people 
who  have  gone  together  through  a  common  excite 
ment.  This  was  the  only  number  on  the  Carnival 
programme  where  the  court  was  not  on  show  for 
the  public,  and  it  promised  to  be  a  merry  evening. 

The  Queen  came;  the  Chamberlain,  after  ar 
ranging  the  order  of  precedence,  offered  her  his 
arm;  the  band  struck  up  a  march,  and  the  dinner 
was  on. 

The  disagreeable  encounter  with  Bob  Almeric 
faded  from  Isyl's  mind;  so,  for  the  first  time  in 
their  twenty-four  hour  long  acquaintance,  did  Tom 
[158] 


THE  BANQUET 

Parrish.  Even  the  mystery  of  Norine's  disappear 
ance  did  not  disturb  her,  although  the  Knights,  re 
turning  from  their  unsuccessful  quest,  had  reported 
the  sensational  episode  at  Golcher's  roadhouse. 

For  the  court's  good-humour  was  contagious. 
At  the  head  of  the  table,  her  Lord  Chamberlain 
beside  her,  she  felt  the  coldness  of  her  courtiers 
melt  into  good-will.  It  was  almost  as  if  she  were 
really  reigning  over  her  play  kingdom,  though  it 
belonged  to  another.  Now  and  again  the  thought 
of  Tom  Parrish  did  indeed  cross  her  mind,  and 
with  it  came  the  disagreeable  recollection  of  a 
coarse-looking  girl,  in  a  red  flannelette  waist.  She 
thought,  too,  of  the  lies  she  had  told  for  the  sake 
of  this  mysterious  stranger.  When  this  came  she 
plunged  back  into  the  gaiety  of  the  scene  more 
desperately  than  ever,  by  way  of  proving  that  she 
did  not  care. 

Gradually  she  became  aware  that  the  Cham 
berlain  was  paying  her  more  attention  than  usual. 
Before,  he  had  virtually  ignored  her,  except  when 
he  had  to  address  her  in  an  official  capacity,  but 
to-night,  as  the  dinner  progressed,  he  seemed  to  go 
out  of  his  way  to  interest  and  amuse  her.  Al 
though  he  divided  his  attentions  with  tact,  the  girl 
[159] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ISYL 

on  his  other  hand  seemed  to  notice  an  unwonted 
devotion  to  Isyl,  also,  and  struck  up  a  lively  flirta 
tion  with  her  next-door  neighbour. 

The  dinner  was  growing  merrier.  They  toasted 
the  Queen,  the  ill  and  deposed  Norine,  and  one 
and  another  of  the  court  functionaries.  The  en 
thusiasm  spread  to  other  tables ;  talk  and  laughter 
drowned  the  music  of  the  orchestra. 

The  Chamberlain  opened  another  story  on  the 
Queen,  and  the  Prime  Minister,  on  her  left,  dropped 
out  of  the  conversation.  Then  the  Chamberlain 
nerved  himself  for  the  trial. 

"  Do  you  know  anything  about  palmistry  ?  "  he 
began,  in  the  time-honoured  way. 

"  No,  only  a  few  of  the  lines.  Can  you  tell  my 
fortune  ?  Do !  "  said  Isyl. 

He  took  the  proffered  hand  and  looked  at  it 
wisely. 

"  I  can't  read  your  palm  unless  you  take  off  your 
rings,"  he  said. 

"  What  nonsense  ! "  said  Isyl.  "  Of  course  you 
can !  I  never  heard  of  that  before  ! " 

"  It  isn't  professional  to  allow  anything  to  be  car 
ried  on  the  fingers  during  a  reading.  I'm  strictly 
scientific,  and  if  you  really  want  to  know  the  truth, 
[160] 


THE  BANQUET 

you  must  take  off  your  rings.  You  see,  for  one 
thing,  I  can't  tell  the  shape  of  the  fingers  or  the 
spaces  between,  to  know  whether  you're  extrava 
gant  or  not." 

Isyl  drew  off  two  rings,  and  then  came  to  the 
sapphire.  It  was  too  large  for  the  finger  on  which 
it  had  been  placed  by  Tom  Parrish,  and  she  had 
put  the  others  over  it  for  guards.  When  she  came 
to  it,  then,  she  stopped. 

"  I  can't  take  this  off ! "  she  said,  with  decision. 

"  You  must !  "  said  the  Chamberlain. 

"  Indeed,  I  won't.  You  can  see  if  I  move  it  up 
to  the  first  joint,  so  ! " 

"  Well,  I'll  try,"  he  said,  seeing  she  was  deter 
mined.  He  began  a  rigamarole,  inventing  as  he 
talked.  He  held  the  ring  between  his  thumb  and 
finger,  turning  it  slightly  as  he  spoke.  It  fitted  so 
loosely  that  he  caught  sight  of  a  word  engraved  in 
side.  Then  he  bent  more  closely,  pretending  to 
examine  some  of  the  fine  markings  that  diverged 
from  the  heart-line. 

"  You  are  in  love,"  he  said,  "  don't  deny  it ! 

But   you  have  had  several  minor  affairs   before. 

This  is  serious.      Yes,  you'll  marry — only  once, 

though.      Now   bend    your   fingers   up    a   little. 

[161] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ISYL 
Heavens,  what  luck!      You'll  be  engaged  very 

I  ** 

soon ! 

He  had  seen  what  he  wanted,  for,  fingering  her 
hand,  the  name  "  Norine  "  was  for  a  moment  visible 
as  the  light  caught  the  inside  of  the  ring. 

The  dinner  was  followed  by  a  general  reception, 
during  which  the  Queen's  mind  was  kept  too  busy 
remembering  names  and  faces  for  any  connected 
train  of  thought.  One  thing,  however,  occurred  to 
draw  it  back  to  the  problem  of  Norine  and  Tom 
Parrish. 

A  throng  of  people  was  entering  the  room  where 
she  stood,  being  presented  and  passing  on  to  the 
refreshment  rooms.  It  was  a  heterogeneous  collec 
tion — persons  of  all  sorts — arrayed  in  every  kind 
of  costume  from  evening  dress  to  neglige  or  outing 
garb.  They  were  brought  up  in  pairs  by  the 
Chamberlain,  made  inane  remarks,  and  went  on. 
The  Queen  and  her  Maids-of-Honour  stood  at 
one  side,  welcoming  their  friends,  bowing,  shaking 
hands,  smiling.  It  was  in  a  rapid  glance,  shot  be 
tween  an  approaching  and  departing  couple,  that 
Isyl  saw  the  Grand  Commander  on  the  opposite 
side  of  the  room. 

He  bore  on  his  arm  a  girl  of  some  nineteen 
[162] 


THE  BANQUET 

years,  rather  handsome,  with  a  swarthy  com 
plexion  and  black  hair.  She  was  dressed,  with  a 
fine  disregard  for  the  formality  of  a  court  presenta 
tion,  in  a  red  flannelette  shirt-waist.  The  Grand 
Commander  bent  over  her  in  absorbed  attention. 
Indeed,  so  conspicuously  did  he  adore  his  partner 
that  it  was  evident  he  wished  to  be  noticed  by 
Isyl.  The  Queen  smiled ;  the  fact  that  this  girl 
was  with  the  Grand  Commander  and  not  with 
Tom  was  pleasant.  The  pair  did  not  approach  to 
be  presented,  but,  as  soon  as  he  noticed  that  he 
was  observed,  the  Commander  escorted  his  inamo 
rata  away. 

At  about  ten  o'clock,  after  the  tide  of  visitors 
had  ceased  to  flow,  the  Chamberlain  approached 
the  Queen  and  said, 

"Any  time  you  care  to  leave,  Miss  Shea,  I  can 
take  you  home.  I  have  a  carriage  ready  whenever 
you  say  to  go." 

"  I  think  I'll  leave  now,  then,"  Isyl  said,  in  relief, 
longing  to  get  away  from  the  crush,  the  odour  and 
the  noise.  A  few  minutes  after  she  descended  the 
stairs  to  the  door.  Here  was  a  carriage  waiting, 
and  the  Chamberlain  helped  her  in.  After  speak 
ing  a  few  words  to  the  driver  in  a  low  voice,  he 
[163] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ISYL 
entered  the  carriage  himself,  and  sat  down  beside 
her,  starting  an  animated  conversation. 

She  had  begun  to  feel  herself  of  consequence,  an 
important  part  of  the  Fiesta,  and  was  delighting  in 
the  loyalty  and  homage  of  her  chief  adviser,  when, 
glancing  out  of  the  window,  Isyl  noticed  that  they 
had  passed  the  street  where  they  should  have 
turned  off,  to  go  to  the  Willows,  and  were  still 
driving  south.  She  interrupted  the  Chamberlain 
in  the  amusing  story  he  was  telling,  and  called  his 
attention  to  their  route.  He  answered,  with  an 
attempt  at  carelessness,  that  he  was  forced  to  see 
the  Prime  Minister  for  a  moment  in  regard  to  the 
exercises  next  day.  Isyl  thought  it  a  bit  cavalier 
to  take  her  out  of  her  way  in  this  manner,  but,  sup 
posing  that  she  also  was  to  be  consulted  as  to  the 
programme,  said  no  more  until  they  passed  the 
Post  Office. 

"  Where  are  we  going  ? "  she  demanded,  now 
suspicious  for  the  first  time. 

"  Why,  he's  waiting  for  me  at  the  City  Hall."  The 
Chamberlain's  voice  did  not  sound  quite  natural. 

Isyl  was  now  really  alarmed.     "  I'd  rather  not 
go,'*  she  said ;  "  please  take  me  home  first.    Tell  the 
driver  to  turn  round,  Mr.  Wilkinson." 
[164] 


THE  BANQUET 

He  said  nothing,  and  the  carriage  kept  on  its 
way. 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  this  ?  "  Isyl  demanded 
angrily. 

The  Chamberlain  kept  silence. 

Isyl  now  attempted  to  open  the  carriage-door, 
not  daring  to  guess  what  his  intentions  might  be. 
But  she  immediately  realised  that  it  would  be  im 
possible  for  her  to  jump  out  with  safety  in  the 
train  she  was  wearing.  Instead,  she  pulled  down 
the  window  to  scream.  A  man  in  an  Inverness 
cape  was  standing  under  a  lamppost,  lighting  a 
cigar.  As  she  was  swept  past,  the  flare  of  his 
match  illuminated  his  face  and  red  hair,  and  Isyl 
saw  that  it  was  Tom  Parrish. 

"  Tom !  Tom ! "  she  cried  to  him. 

The  driver  pulled  up  his  horse,  but  the  Chamber 
lain  put  his  head  out  of  the  other  window  and 
called  for  him  to  drive  on.  Isyl  looked  back,  and 
saw  Tom  start  into  a  run  behind  the  carriage. 
The  Chamberlain  touched  her  arm. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  Miss  Shea,  but  Til  have  to 
ask  you  to  keep  still." 

"  How  dare  you !  "  she  cried.     "  Stop  this  car 
riage  immediately,  and  let  me  get  out.*' 
[165] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ISYL 

"  I'm  very  sorry  to  have  to  appear  so  ungentle- 
manly,  Miss  Shea,  but  there's  no  use  in  deceiving 
you  any  further.  The  fact  is,  I  have  to  take  you 
to  the  office  of  the  Chief  of  Police.  It  will  only  be 
necessary  for  you  to  answer  a  few  questions.  You 
needn't  worry  about  it.  It's  a  mere  formality  I 
assure  you ! " 

"  What  do  you  mean — the  police  ?  "  Isyl  asked, 
frightened  at  the  ominous  sound  of  the  word. 
"What  do  they  want  of  me?" 

"  It's  about  Miss  Almeric.  Of  course  you  can 
easily  explain  that  satisfactorily.  I  didn't  want  to 
cause  a  scene,  so  I  took  the  liberty  of  bringing  you 
here  this  way.  You  must  forgive  me,  for  I  had  to 
obey  orders." 

Isyl  made  no  reply,  as  it  was  useless  to  assert 
her  innocence  then.  She  alighted  with  him  at  the 
front  entrance  to  the  City  Hall  and  went  up  the 
steps.  Just  before  they  entered  she  looked  back, 
but  Tom  was  nowhere  in  sight.  With  more 
anger  at  the  trick  that  had  been  played  on  her 
than  dread  of  the  approaching  ordeal,  she  accom 
panied  her  escort  into  the  office  of  the  Chief  of 
Police. 

The  Chief,  in  uniform,  was  sitting  at  his  desk, 
[166] 


THE  BANQUET 

talking  with  Bob  Almeric.  The  two  men  arose 
and  greeted  Isyl  with  formal  politeness.  Isyl  was 
pale,  but  aroused  in  every  fibre  at  the  sight  of  the 
boss  who  had  so  insultingly  accused  her. 

"  I  hope  you'll  forgive  our  method  of  getting  you 
here,  Miss  Shea,"  said  the  Chief,  "  but  we  thought 
you'd  prefer  to  have  this  matter  kept  quiet,  and  it 
will  take  only  a  few  moments  for  you  to  clear  it 
up.  Now  if  you'll  just  tell  us  all  you  know  about 
Miss  Almeric's  leaving  the  Pavilion  last  night, 
and  where  she  is  now,  you  can  be  driven  home 
immediately,  and  nothing  will  be  said  about 
this." 

"  I  have  told  Mr.  Almeric  all  I  know  already, 
and  I  have  nothing  further  to  say,"  Isyl  answered 
proudly. 

The  Chief  drew  up  a  chair  and  said,  kindly, 
"  Miss  Shea,  you  don't  seem  to  realise  that  this  is 
a  rather  serious  matter.  Miss  Almeric  has  been 
missing  since  last  night,  and  her  father  is  very 
much  concerned  about  it.  You  were  the  last  one 
seen  with  her,  and  naturally  we  have  to  question 
you.  You  may  know  where  she  is,  and  you  may 
not,  but  would  you  mind  telling  how  you  happen 
to  be  wearing  her  ring  ?  " 

[167] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ISYL 

"What  makes  you  think  it  is  her  ring?"  Isyl 
asked. 

"It  has  her  name  engraved  inside,  for  one 
thing,"  the  Chamberlain  volunteered. 

"  Oh,  that's  why  you  talked  palmistry,  was  it  ? 
But  I  didn't  know  it  had  Norine's  name  in  it 
before."  Isyl  partly  removed  it,  now,  and  looked 
for  herself.  Not  having  taken  it  off  before  since 
she  received  it,  she  had  not  noticed  the  name 
inside.  To  Bob  Almeric,  however,  who  knew 
nothing  of  this,  it  seemed  like  the  height  of  imper 
tinence. 

"  Are  you  trying  to  make  me  believe  you  didn't 
know  what  was  inside  that  ring?"  he  said,  sneer- 
ingly. 

"  You  may  believe  it  or  not,"  she  answered. 

"Do  you  mind  saying  where  you  got  it?"  the 
Chief  asked. 

"  I  decline  to  tell,"  Isyl  said. 

The  boss  looked  at  the  Chief ;  the  Chief  looked 
at  the  floor,  uncertain  what  step  to  take  next.  At 
that  moment  Tom  Parrish,  in  evening  dress  and 
Inverness,  walked  into  the  room. 

"  Well,  sir,  what  do  you  want  ?  "  said  the  Chief. 

Without  answering,  Tom  walked  up  to  Isyl, 
[168] 


THE  BANQUET 

saying  jauntily,  "Well,  Your  Majesty,  are  you 
needing  a  champion  to  defend  you?  Which  one 
of  these  three  shall  I  kill  first — the  dragon,  the 
magician  or  the  craven  knight  who  stole  you  ?  " 

In  a  moment  Isyl's  courage  returned.  She  had 
absolute  confidence  in  his  power  to  master  any 
situation.  So  she  smiled  at  last,  and  held  up  the 
sapphire. 

"  These  gentlemen  are  trying  to  make  me  tell 
where  I  got  this  ring,"  she  said. 

"  And  you  wouldn't  answer  ?  " 

"  Of  course  not.     How  could  I  ?  " 

"Well,  then,  it's  largely  up  to  little  Tommy  to 
put  on  the  black  cap  and  noose."  He  bowed, 
sweeping  an  opera  hat  with  a  bombastic  gesture. 
"Gentlemen,  allow  me  to  introduce  to  you  the 
wonder  of  the  criminal  world,  T.  Parrish,  Esquire, 
Author  and  Illustrator  of  the  Great  Sapphire  Ring 
Robbery,  the  Mystery  of  the  Twentieth  Century. 
I  done  it.  Now  do  your  worst ! "  And  he 
struck  an  attitude  which  succeeded  in  drawing  a 
grin  from  the  Chief  of  Police. 

"  You're  a  swell  gonoff ,  I  don't  think ! "  he  said. 
"  You  are  Raffles,  the  Amateur  Cracksman,  I  sup 
pose!     Well,  if  you  really  pinched  this  ring,  I'll 
[169] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ISYL 
send  for  the  handcuffs.     If  it's  a  joke,  you'd  better 
wake  up  and  get  onto  yourself,  or  we'll  have  a 
scandal  in  high  society." 

"  I  cannot  tell  a  lie,  I  took  the  ring,"  Tom  as 
serted. 

"Where  did  you  get  it?" 

"Ah,  I  pass.  But  I'm  glad  you  are  intelligent 
enough  to  argue  from  effect  to  cause." 

"  Do  you  know  where  my  daughter  is  ?  "  was 
the  next  question. 

"  I  might  dare  to  guess,"  was  the  answer. 

"That's  about  enough  of  this  foolishness,"  the 
Chief  interrupted.  "  You  tell  what  you  know,  or 
I'll  have  to  hold  you." 

"  It  strikes  me  you're  rather  short  on  evidence 
for  that.  You'll  invite  a  suit  for  false  imprison 
ment,  if  you  do.  We  don't  allow  a  man  to  in 
criminate  himself  where  I  come  from.  As  one 
professional  to  another,  I  wouldn't  advise  it,  really." 

"  See  here,  young  fellow,  talk  sense  a  minute. 
You  have  got  Miss  Shea  into  a  scrape.  It's  up 
to  you  to  square  it.  It's  no  joke;  she's  found  in 
possession  of  stolen  property." 

"Stolen?"  said  Tom.  "I  didn't  catch  that. 
Who  says  it's  stolen  ?  " 

[170] 


THE  BANQUET 

"You  did  yourself." 

"  Pardon  me,  I  said  nothing  like  that.  It's  too 
ugly  a  word.  I  said  I  took  it.  If  I  should  give 
you  a  short  arm  jab  on  the  chin,  would  you  say 
you  stole  it  ?  " 

"  Well,  what  do  you  propose  to  do  about  this, 
then?" 

"  111  tell  you.  If  you'll  whistle  off  your  blood 
hounds,  and  keep  your  paws  off  me,  I'll  promise  to 
bring  a  note  back  from  Miss  Almeric  within  an 
hour  by  the  clock.  Unfortunately  this  is  not  my 
secret,  and  that's  the  best  I  can  do,  even  for  the 
Queen  of  the  Fiesta.  Miss  Norine  is  of  age, 
though  I  say  it  as  shouldn't,  and  she  has  a  right  to 
take  a  vacation  if  she  wishes,  I  suppose.  Your 
Majesty,  do  you  mind  waiting  while  I  remove  this 
slight  blot  on  the  'scutcheon  ?  " 

Isyl  nodded,  and  the  others,  cajoled  in  spite  of 
themselves  by  his  airiness,  allowed  him  to  depart. 
Indeed  they  all  welcomed  the  hope  that  he  might, 
as  he  promised,  relieve  their  curiosity,  and  were 
content  to  wait.  The  men,  with  the  Queen's 
gracious  permission,  lit  cigars  and  began  to  talk. 

They  had  sat  thus,  and  gossiped  of  nothings  for 
some  minutes  when  the  Chief  of  Police  remarked, 
[171] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ISYL 
"  I  wonder  if  I  ought  to  have  had  that  chap  fol 
lowed?     Of  course  there's  no   evidence  against 
him,  and  he  looked  all  right  to  me." 

"  Funny  how  we  all  fell  down  in  front  of  his 
bluff,"  said  Bob  Almeric.  "He  came  out  to  in 
terview  me  the  night  that  Norine  left.  Said  he 
wanted  to  know  if  she  was  at  home.  Lord,  I  had  to 
take  a  stick  to  get  rid  of  him.  He's  got  a  nerve." 

"  He  had  you  all  hypnotised,  that's  what's  the 
matter,"  the  Chamberlain  offered, — "that's  the 
kind  of  a  fellow  he  is !  " 

"  I  wonder  if  he  will  come  back  in  an  hour. 
How  are  you  betting,  Mr.  Almeric?"  the  Chief 
asked. 

"  I'll  back  him  for  a  hundred  dollars,  easy,"  said 
the  boss.  "  He's  the  kind  that  delivers  the  goods, 
or  I'm  no  judge  of  men.  Say,  Jack,  I'll  bet  I 
could  use  that  boy !  I  need  fellows  like  that  in 
my  business."  Then,  looking  up  at  Isyl  and  fear 
ing  that  she  might  have  some  understanding  with 
Tom,  he  changed  the  subject. 

The  Chief,  now  thinking  it  necessary  to  enter 
tain  his  involuntary  visitor,  began  to  show  her  his 
pictures  of  rogues  and  criminals.     Isyl  shuddered 
at  the  display  until  he  came  to  what  he  called  his 
[172] 


THE  BANQUET 

"civil  section,"  and  then  became  more  interested. 
Presently  she  came  to  a  photograph  of  three 
Chinese  in  long,  ceremonial  jackets  and  red-button 
caps,  surrounding  a  keen-faced  white  man,  dressed 
in  the  fashion  of  ten  years  ago. 

"That's  Frank  Powell   and   the   Chinks  that 
married  him  off,  his  matrimonial  bureau,  we  used 
to  call  them.     It's  a  pretty  good  yarn,  that— 
want  to  hear  about  it  ?  " 

"  If  there  are  no  murders  in  it,"  said  Isyl. 

"Only  six,"  laughed  the  Chief.  "But  they 
were  all  Chinamen,  and  don't  count.  They  don't 
have  anything  much  to  do  with  the  story,  anyway." 

"  Then  you  may  tell  it,"  said  Isyl. 

The  boss  and  the  Chamberlain  tilted  back  in 
their  armchairs  and  the  Chief  began : 

The  Chief  of  Polices  Story 

THE  CHINESE  BRIDE 

Or,  Love  Recusant 

THE  more  you  know  about  the  Chinese,  the 
more   you  don't.      There  was   this  fellow 
Frank  Powell.     He  had  the  name  of  know 
ing  them  and  getting  on  with  them  better  than  any 
other  man  in  California,  and  he  got  into  trouble 
[173] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ISYL 
because  he  thought  he  knew  a  little  more  than  he 
did.     It  was  this  way. 

Frank  was  attorney  for  the  Chinese  Six  Com 
panies.  His  best  client  among  them  was  the  Hip 
Suey  Tong,  the  richest  and  swellest  Chinese 
society  here  in  San  Jose  or  in  San  Francisco. 
They  were  principally  merchants  and  bankers  and 
gambling-house  keepers.  Had  three  millionaires 
amongst  them,  and  precious  few  that  couldn't  raise 
five  thousand  dollars  bail-money  any  day  of  the 
week. 

Now,  the  Hip  Sueys  have  an  idol  that  is  sup 
posed  to  be  the  luckiest  thing  this  side  of  Canton. 
It  is  as  white  as  a  ghost,  all  but  the  face  and 
breast,  which  are  dripping  blood;  and  it  holds  a 
mandarin  fan  that  money  won't  buy.  Any  gambler 
in  Chinatown  would  give  his  father's  soul  and  his 
mother's  to  get  hold  of  the  joss,  or  even  the  fan  of 
the  joss.  Every  single  Chink  of  them  believes  that 
if  he  could  steal  it  he  would  be  able  to  beat  any 
fan-tan  game,  win  in  any  lottery,  or  get  any 
woman.  That's  why  the  Hip  Sueys  keep  the  joss 
locked  up  in  a  fire-proof  vault,  except  at  their  big 
Festival  of  the  Dead,  which  comes  off  every  three 
years.  Then  they  bring  it  up  into  the  joss-house, 
[174] 


THE  BANQUET 

but  then  they  don't  dare  trust  any  Chinamen  to 
guard  it.  They  get  two  white  men  to  stand  by  it 
with  guns  and  clubs. 

The  hatchet-men  have  made  all  sorts  of  attempts 
at  one  time  or  another  to  steal  the  joss,  but  no 
one  ever  came  anywhere  near  doing  it  till  Ng  Poo 
decided  to  take  a  hand.  Ng  Poo  was  the  Presi 
dent  of  the  Mok  Sing  Tong  of  highbinders,  and  he 
was  about  the  toughest  citizen  that  ever  used  chop 
sticks.  His  Tong  scraped  together  two  thousand 
dollars  by  blackmail,  and  Ng  Poo  used  it  to  bribe 
the  two  white  watchmen.  They  agreed  to  play 
into  his  hands  on  the  first  night  of  the  Feast  of  the 
Dead. 

The  Hip  Sueys  were  doing  the  thing  in  style, 
that  year.  They  were  keeping  open  house ;  the 
alley  was  filled  with  bands  of  music  and  decorated 
with  paper  flowers  and  colored  electric  lights ; 
priests  and  chanters  on  the  ground  floor  singing 
night  and  day,  firecrackers  and  a  free  dinner  for 
all  comers.  Half  Chinatown  was  there  in  Spof- 
ford  Alley,  besides  dozens  and  hundreds  of  white 
visitors. 

So,  following  his  plan,  Ng  Poo  waited  until  the 
club-rooms  and  the  stairs  were  packed,  and  then 
[175] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ISYL 
emptied  his  gun  at  the  entrance  to  create  a  panic, 
and  draw  off  attention  from  what  was  going  on  in 
the  joss-room.  So  far  it  worked  all  right.  The 
Chinese  and  tourists  rushed  up  and  rushed  back 
and  then  jammed  in  a  wedge  on  the  stairs. 

Frank  Powell  happened  to  be  on  the  second 
floor  landing  with  some  ladies,  showing  them  the 
sights.  In  a  flash  he  guessed  what  was  up.  He 
piled  over  a  dozen  Chinks,  threw  open  the  window 
and  climbed  out  on  the  fire-escape.  There,  at  a 
window  above,  was  Tom  Bourke,  one  of  the  white 
watchmen,  passing  the  big  white  joss  down  to  a 
highbinder  who  was  standing  on  the  very  platform 
with  Frank.  Just  as  it  fell  into  the  man's  arms, 
Frank  grabbed  him  by  the  pigtail,  yanked  him 
back,  grabbed  the  joss  and  sat  on  it  till  help  came. 
If  Frank  had  been  a  Chinaman,  they  would  have 
stuck  him  like  a  pig ;  but  they  know  better  than 
to  touch  a  white  man.  Every  mother's  son  of 
them  knows  that  it  would  be  all  up  with  China 
town  if  they  ever  did ;  for  people  would  tear  the 
place  out  by  the  roots. 

When  they  had  the  idol  locked  tight  in  the 
vault  again,  the  Hip  Sueys  arranged  for  Ng  Poo's 
disappearance   by   the   hatchet-route.     Then,    of 
[176] 


THE  BANQUET 

course,  the  Mok  Sings  came  back  at  them,  and 
there  was  a  big  feud  on.  There  was  some  char 
acteristic  Chinese  repartee,  and  when  the  Six 
Companies  got  in  and  stopped  the  fight,  the  score 
stood  at  three  dead  on  each  side,  and  honours 
easy. 

The  Hip  Sueys  had  an  all-day  and  all-night 
banquet  to  celebrate,  and  Frank  Powell  was  guest 
of  honour  at  the  biggest  feast  he  ever  went  up 
against.  Consul-General  Bee,  who  was  there, 
managed  to  get  himself  telegraphed  for  after  eight 
hours,  but  Frank  had  to  stand  for  it,  chop  suey, 
birds'  nests,  boiled  bamboo,  duck-eggs,  seaweed 
soup,  rice  brandy  and  all.  It  was  something 
fierce.  The  everlasting  gongs,  squeaky  fiddles  and 
tomtoms  were  making  him  so  sleepy  he  had  to 
smoke  cigarettes  to  keep  himself  awake,  when  the 
President  of  the  Tong  got  up  and  made  a  speech  of 
gratitude,  flowery  hot  air  and  endless  friendship. 
Then  he  presented  Frank  Powell  with  a  souvenir 
of  the  evening. 

It  was  a  carved  sandal-wood  egg  as  big  as 
a  foot-ball.  Frank  opened  it  to  find  another  in 
side,  and  he  kept  opening  eggs  and  eggs  till 
he'd  taken  off  twelve  layers  and  came  to  the 
[177] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ISYL 
real    chicken.     It   was    a  check  for  three  thou 
sand  dollars,  signed  by  the  Treasurer  of  the  Hip 
Suey  Tong. 

Now  this  was  a  pretty  neat  little  gift,  but 
Frank's  stand-in  with  the  Chinese  was  worth  a 
good  deal  more  to  him  than  that.  Besides,  he 
didn't  exactly  like  to  take  money  that  way.  He 
saw  the  chance  for  a  grand-stand  play.  So  he 
said  to  the  interpreter : 

"  Tell  the  Tong  that  I  saved  the  great  white 
joss  for  friendship  alone,  and  his  bloody  face  will 
bring  me  good  luck  and  honourable  success.  I  am 
paid  enough  by  the  friendship  of  the  honourable 
Tong,  and  no  money  shall  pass  between  us  for  this 
trifling  service ! " 

The  Chinks  jabbered  awhile,  seeming  to  be  im 
pressed,  and  finally  the  President  came  over  to 
Frank  and  said : 

"All-light,  Flank,  you  no  like-em  take  money, 
Tong  catch-em  heap  nice  plesent  pletty  soon. 
You  like-em  one  nice  China  lady  wife  for  ples 
ent?" 

Frank  laughed,  and  then  said, 

"  Much  obliged,  Li  Hong  Fook,  but  you  know 
I  have  a  wife  already." 

[178] 


THE  BANQUET 

"Tha's  all-light,"  says  Hong  Fook.  "Maybe 
Melican  man  have  two  wifes  sometime,  wha's-a- 
malla  that  ?  " 

"  Oh,  sometimes  they  play  they  have  two  wives, 
but  it's  against  the  law,  sure ! " 

Now  there  never  was  a  Chink  who  had  the 
least  respect  for  American  law ;  it's  only  made  to 
beat ;  and  there  never  was  one  who  didn't  have 
the  biggest  respect  in  the  world  for  a  lawyer,  be 
cause  he  can  always  side-step  the  courts  of  the 
"  white  devils."  It  never  struck  them  that  Frank 
Powell,  who  had  fooled  justice  for  them  a  hundred 
times,  would  have  any  trouble  getting  round  a  law 
for  himself.  So  Honk  Fook  said, 

"All-light!  You  play,  too.  You  catch-em 
one  find  China  lady  pletty  soon,  maybe  one  year, 
two  year ! " 

Frank  thought  he  understood  a  Chinese  joke  by 
this  time,  so  he  laughed  a  little  and  then  forgot  all 
about  it.  He  lived  through  the  banquet  somehow, 
and  when  they  got  to  throwing  fingers  for  the  gin, 
and  weren't  noticing,  he  got  away  and  slept  for 
nearly  two  days. 

He  never  thought  of  the  joke  again  until  next 
China  New  Year's  Day,  when  two  swell  China- 
[179] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ISYL 

men  came  to  his  house  with  lilies  and  a  bolt  of  fine 
blue  silk,  and  a  homely  old  vase  that  was  probably 
worth  its  weight  in  gold  to  anyone  who  knew 
about  such  things. 

"  Plesent  flom  China  wife,"  said  Hong  Fook. 

Even  then,  Frank  didn't  guess  what  they  were 
doing.  He  thought  it  was  just  their  keen  way  of 
passing  off  a  present  on  him  so  he  couldn't  refuse 
it.  So  he  thanked  them,  with  a  straight  face,  and 
when  they  left,  he  bought  a  phonograph,  and  got  a 
Chinese  actor  to  sing  into  it,  and  sent  it  round 
to  the  Tong  house,  addressed  to  "Mrs.  Frank 
Powell,  Canton,  China." 

Next  Christmas,  he  received  a  mandarin  gold 
dragon  ring,  and  a  piece  of  jade  that  would  be 
worth  anywhere  from  a  hundred  dollars  up.  He 
sent  back  a  cuckoo-clock  next  New  Year's ;  and 
so  it  went  on,  back  and  forth,  that  way  for  a  mat 
ter  of  three  years. 

Then  one  day  the  President  of  the  Tong  paid 
him  an  official  visit.  The  minute  Frank  came  into 
the  room  he  knew  that  something  was  in  the  wind. 
Hong  Fook  had  on  his  swellest  dress  clothes — 
long  green  silk  coat,  lavender  breeches  tied  in  at 
the  ankles,  embroidered  shoes  and  red  button  cap, 
[180] 


THE  BANQUET 

complete — sitting  up  straight  with  his  toes  turned 
out. 

The  President  began  by  inquiring  about  Frank's 
health,  the  weather  and  all,  and  then  gradually  let 
out  the  object  of  his  visit.  It  nearly  took  Frank's 
breath  away. 

The  Chinese  wife  was  no  joke  at  all.  The 
Hip  Suey  Tong  had  taken  Frank  in  dead  earnest, 
and  had  bought  a  girl  for  him  in  Canton.  She 
was  a  small-foot,  merchant-caste  woman,  and  they 
had  been  educating  her  for  three  years  in  all  sorts 
of  queer  accomplishments.  They  had  held  a 
formal  marriage  by  proxy,  and,  according  to 
Chinese  law,  she  was  Mrs.  Frank  Powell 
No.  2. 

But  the  Tong  was  getting  impatient  because 
Frank  didn't  send  for  her.  It  appears  that  people 
in  Canton  were  talking  about  her  because  her  hus 
band  wouldn't  have  her  live  with  him,  and  they 
thought  there  must  be  something  serious  the  matter 
with  her.  The  family  was  in  disgrace  and  losing 
caste,  and  her  parents  were  furious.  Something 
had  to  be  done  about  it. 

Well,  if  ever  a  man  was  hit  on  both  sides  at 
once,  it  was  Frank  Powell.  He  didn't  know  what 
[181] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ISYL 
to  do  with  her  if  she  did  come  over,  and  if  he 
didn't  send  for  her,  he  would  lose  all  his  Chinese 
practice.     The  only  thing  he  could  do  was  to  play 
for  time.     So  he  said, 

"  This  is  a  very  inconvenient  time  for  me,  Li 
Hong  Fook.  Would  you  mind  waiting  for  two 
months,  and  then  I  will  attend  to  it." 

Well,  there  he  was,  with  a  good  chance  of  los 
ing  about  seven  thousand  dollars  a  year  if  he 
didn't  square  himself  somehow.  He  told  the 
story  to  Mrs.  Powell,  who  was  a  good  deal  of  a 
fool,  and  she  made  it  worse  than  ever.  She  in 
sisted  that  it  was  all  Frank's  fault,  and  he  had  been 
deceiving  her,  and  threatened  to  go  home  to  her 
mother's. 

It  was  some  time  before  he  thought  to  ask  Jim 
about  it.  Jim  was  a  Christianised  Chinese  who 
had  worked  for  the  Powells  for  eighteen  years, 
and  was  almost  one  of  the  family.  You  know 
what  a  good  Chinese  cook  is — there  are  none  bet 
ter — and  Jim  was  one  of  the  best.  He  wasn't 
the  kind  that  gets  mad  after  three  days,  quits,  and 
puts  a  devil-hoodoo-mark  up  over  the  kitchen  door, 
so  you  won't  be  able  to  keep  a  China  boy  there 
until  you've  had  the  whole  house  painted.  Jim 
[182] 


THE  BANQUET 

had  run  the  Powell  place  ever  since  he  went  to 
work  for  Frank's  mother.  He  not  only  bought 
all  the  provisions,  jewed  down  the  butcher,  bossed 
the  second  girl,  and  fixed  up  the  bill-of-fare  for  all 
their  swell  dinners,  but  he  was  really  Frank  Pow 
ell's  silent  partner  in  his  law  business.  Jim  always 
kept  Frank  posted  on  Chinese  ways  and  the  inside 
politics  of  Dupont  Street.  Frank  would  never 
have  got  into  this  marriage  scrape  if  he'd  only  told 
Jim  about  it. 

So,  one  day,  Frank  went  out  into  the  kitchen 
where  Jim  was  having  the  time  of  his  life,  because 
there  were  seven  extra  guests  for  dinner,  and  he 
had  a  chance  to  spread  himself  on  fancy  dishes. 
Just  then  he  was  icing  a  big  cake  and  printing  the 
words  "  God  is  Love  "  across  the  top  in  pink  frost 
ing.  He'd  learned  that  in  Sunday-School,  and  it 
struck  him  as  appropriate  to  almost  any  occasion. 
He  pretended  not  to  listen  to  Frank's  tale  of  woe, 
and  said, 

"  Velly  busy  now.  No  good  talk  when  wolkin'. 
You  wait.  To-mollow  maybe.  Velly  busy  now." 

The  next  day  Jim  came  in,  all  starched  white 
linen — you  know  how  everlastingly  clean  a  China 
man  can  look — and  he  said, 
[183] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ISYL 

"How  much  money  you  give  me  I  lose-em 
China  wife  ?  " 

"Oh,  most  anything.  How  much  d'you  want, 
Jim?" 

"Oh,  maybe  one  thousand  dolla*,  maybe  two 
thousand  dolla'.  No  can  tell  yet.** 

"  You  go  ahead  and  do  the  trick,  and  1*11  stand 
for  what  it  costs,'*  said  Frank,  for  he  had  a  big  lot 
of  confidence  in  that  China  boy. 

Jim  began  to  look  over  the  room  and  handle  the 
things  on  the  mantel.  Finally  he  took  up  one  of 
those  pink  and  gold  china  shepherdesses  and 
showed  it  to  Frank. 

"  You  like-em  this  one  pletty  good  ?  " 

"  Rotten ! "  said  Frank.  It  was  one  of  his  wed 
ding  presents — we  all  have  our  troubles  that  way 
— he  hated  the  sight  of  it,  but  he  hadn't  dared 
put  it  away  because  his  wife's  mother's  second- 
cousin  had  sent  it,  and  she  was  expecting  money 
from  that  end  of  the  family.  He  said  the  same 
thing  about  a  number  of  other  things,  including  an 
onyx  clock  and  a  brass  stand.  Jim  smiled  and 
didn't  explain,  but  agreed  to  take  on  the  job. 

Next  week  Frank  had  to  go  up  to  Portland  on 
a  big  deportation  case  for  the  Hip  Sueys.  It  took 
[184] 


THE  BANQUET 

him  about  six  weeks  to  get  things  straightened  out. 
Before  leaving,  though,  he  had  given  Jim  per 
mission  to  do  anything  he  wanted  with  the  house, 
and  he  had  notified  Mrs.  Powell  not  to  interfere,  if 
she  didn't  want  a  second  wife  in  the  house. 

When  he  got  back  she  was  as  mad  as  a  hatter. 
Jim  had  been  boring  holes  through  the  partitions, 
stringing  wires  everywhere,  hammering  nails  in  the 
walls,  and  what-not.  She  hadn't  dared  to  say  a 
word,  but  she  was  mad  clear  through.  Frank 
himself  was  puzzled  till  Jim  explained  his  scheme. 
Then  Frank  laughed  like  a  fool. 

In  a  day  or  so  more  Jim  came  to  Frank  and  said, 

"  China  wife,  she  come  on  stleamboat  yesterday. 
Li  Hong  Fook  he  bling-em  to-mollow.  I  fix-em !  " 

Frank  was  feeling  pretty  anxious  when  the  next 
day,  sure  enough,  the  Hip  Sueys  drove  up  in  hacks. 
The  first  carriage  stopped,  and  out  came  an  old, 
fat  Chinawoman.  Behind  her  was  a  Chinese  girl, 
a  little  doll  of  a  thing,  not  a  day  over  fifteen.  She 
was  all  bundled  up  in  red  silk  and  embroidery. 
You  could  hardly  see  her  hair  for  the  gold  and 
jade  ornaments,  nor  her  face  for  the  rouge;  and 
under  her  green  pantaloons  were  the  littlest  pair  of 
feet  in  the  world. 

[185] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ISYL 

She  jumped  on  the  old  woman's  back;  and 
Frank  saw  that  his  bride  had  come,  sure  enough, 
for  every  Chinese  wife  has  to  be  carried  into  her 
husband's  house  the  first  time  she  enters.  If  she 
walked  herself,  she'd  be  no  more  high-toned  than 
an  ordinary  big-foot  woman,  and  if  she  should 
happen  to  touch  the  threshhold,  it  would  bring 
seven  years'  bad  luck. 

Frank  grinned,  as  though  he  were  glad  to  see 
her,  but  he  kept  his  eye  on  a  piano  wire  that  was 
stretched  about  an  inch  above  the  threshhold.  The 
old  lady  stepped  inside — and  then  tumbled  all  over 
herself  and  the  little  bride.  In  the  confusion  the 
wire — and  Jim — disappeared  together. 

If  there  wasn't  a  row  then!  The  Chinamen 
jumped  on  the  old  woman  and  pounded  her  until 
Frank  had  to  pull  them  off.  The  girl  cried  like  a 
waterfall,  and  Hong  Fook  swore  till  he  was  black 
in  the  face.  There  wasn't  any  need  to  tell  the 
Tong  men  that  she  was  going  to  bring  bad  luck! 
They  jabbered  over  it  a  while,  and  then  put  the 
wife  back  into  the  carriage  and  drove  off. 

Frank  was  feeling  pretty  good  about  Jim's  suc 
cess,  but  the  affair  wasn't  over  yet,  by  any  means. 
In  about  an  hour  the  Hip  Sueys  sent  up  a  band  of 
[186]  " 


THE  BANQUET 

Chinese  musicians  to  drive  the  evil  spirits  out. 
You  see,  the  old  lady  had  told  the  Tong  men  that 
a  devil  had  caught  her  by  the  toe  when  she  started 
into  the  house. 

The  priest  and  the  six  musicians  proceeded  to 
the  moral  fumigation  of  that  house  in  a  way  that 
drew  crowds.  They  sat  in  the  Powells'  front 
parlor  playing  two-string  fiddles,  and  hammering 
drums  and  brass  cymbals  till  Mrs.  Powell  had  to 
leave  and  go  to  her  mother's.  Then  they  burned 
punk-sticks  and  incense  all  over  the  place,  and 
pasted  red  papers  up  over  the  walls  and  on  the 
front  door,  scattered  prayer  papers  out  of  the  win 
dow,  and  set  out  a  roasted  pig  on  the  stoop.  After 
they  had  kept  up  the  racket  for  about  four  hours, 
and  fired  off  about  twenty  thousand  fire-crackers 
in  a  barrel  in  the  dining-room,  they  went  away. 
Frank's  house  by  this  time  had  become  an  object 
of  interest  to  tourists,  and  what  the  Chinks  didn't 
do,  the  hoodlums  outside  did  on  their  own  account. 

Next  day  Frank  was  notified  that  his  wife  No.  2 
would  make  another  triumphal  entry  into  his  house 
that  afternoon.  Jim  told  him  it  would  be  all  right, 
and  both  of  them  prepared  to  open  on  the  show 
from  their  masked  batteries. 
[187] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ISYL 
The  little  girl  toddled  in  alone,  this  time,  followed 
by  the  Chinese  committee.  Frank  was  formally 
presented  to  his  new  wife.  The  girl  had  never 
been  in  a  white  man's  house  before,  and  she  sat 
staring,  smiling  like  a  wax  figure.  Frank  tried  to 
be  polite,  and  showed  her  his  things.  She  seemed 
to  be  most  interested  in  the  big  onyx  clock,  and  he 
took  her  up  to  it  to  let  her  see  the  pendulum  ticking. 
She  reached  out  her  hand  to  touch  it — and  smash ! 
the  thing  toppled  over  and  went  all  to  pieces  on 
the  floor.  The  girl  sat  down  and  cried,  and  the 
Chinamen  were  so  excited  that  they  had  no  time 
to  notice  the  hole  in  the  wall  where  Jim  had  pushed 
his  stick  through.  Frank  told  them  it  didn't  mat 
ter,  but  they  all  looked  pretty  glum. 

Then  Frank  led  her  to  the  window  to  show  her 
the  view  of  the  Bay,  and  as  she  passed  a  brass 
stand  it  tipped  over,  carrying  a  glass  globe  of  gold 
fishes  with  it.  The  next  minute  the  carpet  was 
covered  with  water,  broken  glass,  and  flopping  fish. 
Then  the  Chinks  talked  about  having  the  band 
back  again,  and  more  fire-crackers  and  punks,  but 
Frank  put  his  foot  down  hard.  While  they  were 
discussing  the  situation,  a  chunk  of  plaster  fell  from 
the  ceiling  and  just  missed  Frank's  bald  head. 
[188] 


THE  BANQUET 

That  made  the  Chinamen  splutter  worse  than  ever. 
Then  a  picture  dropped  off  the  wall  with  a  bang 
that  finished  scaring  them  to  death.  Frank  now 
considered  that  the  time  had  come  to  put  the  thing 
to  a  vote. 

"  You  see  I  can't  have  this  woman,"  he  said. 
"  She's  unlucky,  and  I'll  probably  catch  the  bubonic 
plague  and  die  in  four  days  if  she  stays  with  me ! " 

Then  Hong  Fook  got  up  and  surrendered.  He 
said  that  the  Tong  washed  its  hands  of  her,  too, 
that  she  was  unlucky  from  her  birth,  and  might 
her  evil  reputation  blast  the  sacred  memory  of  her 
grandmother  and  grandfather  for  a  thousand  weary 
years. 

It  was  a  deadlock  and  nobody  knew  quite  what 
to  do,  till  Jim  came  in  and  took  a  hand  in  the  game. 
And  then  Frank  tumbled  to  the  true  inwardness 
and  capacity  of  the  Chinese  mind  when  adulterated 
with  Christianity  and  civilisation. 

"  I  fix-em ! "  Jim  said.  "  You  gib  me  China 
lady  for  my  wife.  I  not  aflaid  of  debble.  Debbie 
no  can  touch  Clistian  boy,  saved  by  blood  o'  lamb. 
I  mally  China  lady,  what  you  think  ?  " 

It  seemed  to  be  a  pretty  good  way  out  of  the 
fix,  and   everybody  agreed,  especially   the   little 
[189] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ISYL 
China  girl,  who  had  been  watching  Jim  pretty 
hard.     If  I'm  not  mistaken,  she  had  seen  him  be 
fore,  and  the  thing  was  fixed  up  between  them. 

Well,  that  was  the  way  the  Hip  Suey  Tong 
paid  Frank  Powell  for  saving  the  white  luck-joss, 
and  how  Frank  Powell  kept  his  Chinese  practice. 
But,  what's  more  to  the  point,  that  was  how  Jim, 
the  Christian  cook,  got  a  $5,000  small-foot  woman 
for  a  wife,  free,  and  made  about  $2,000  to  boot, 
just  with  a  few  gimlets  and  wires ! 

Yes,  the  more  you  know  about  Chinamen,  the 
more  you  don't ! 


[190] 


THE  PLAISAUNCE 

VIII 
THE  PLAISAUNCE 

fl  HOW  Sir  Tomas  the  Scalawag  sought  for  La  Beale 
Norine  and  encountered  the  Grand  Commander.  Of 
the  mystic  maze,  and  horo  Sir  Tomas  loas  sought  to  be 
enmeshed  therein,  while  the  scholard  talked  with  a 
chapman  :  The  Tale  of  Love  Loquacious. 

IT  was  near  eleven  o'clock  when  Tom  Parrish 
ran  down  the  City  Hall  steps  and  walked 
briskly  toward  the  northern  part  of  town. 
On  First  Street  the  city  was  still  gay,  and  to 
dodge  the  crowd  he  had  to  walk  in  the  roadway. 
From  St.  James  Park  floated  the  last  strains  of  the 
open-air  band  concert,  and  the  crowd  broke  as  he 
entered  the  leafy,  shaded  paths.  On  every  hand 
the  white  costumes  of  frolicsome  merrymakers 
glimmered  through  the  dusk.  Gay  groups  marched 
past,  singing  as  they  went;  peddlers  cried  their 
wares ;  social  parties  of  young  folk  shrieked  and 
giggled  on  the  lawns.  The  carnival  spirit  was 
wide  awake  this  soft  starry  May  night,  and  the 
revellers  were  boisterously  happy.  In  the  open 
[191] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ISYL 

spaces  the  ever-shifting  crowd  came  and  went 
under  the  electric  lights,  but  the  shadows  of  the 
spreading  trees  hid  affectionate  couples  enjoying 
themselves  after  a  more  quiet  fashion. 

Tom  threaded  the  crowd,  reached  Second 
Street,  and  walked  toward  the  railroad.  Here 
the  houses  were  larger  and  more  pretentious,  set 
about  with  well-kept  lawns  and  gardens.  Into 
one  of  these  he  turned.  Running  up  the  front 
steps,  he  rang  the  bell.  A  maid  answered 
him. 

"Is  Mr.  Lee  at  home?" 

"No,"  said  the  girl,  "he  went  out  about  an 
hour  ago." 

"Any  word  for  Mr.  Parrish?" 

"  He  said  he'd  be  at  the  Midway." 

He  thanked  her,  and  started  on  a  jog-trot  for  the 
street-fair.  When  he  reached  the  place  booths 
were  beginning  to  close,  but  there  were  still  visitors 
enough  to  warrant  the  more  popular  attractions  in 
keeping  open  for  another  half-hour.  The  street,  on 
either  hand,  was  lined  with  cheap  amusements  and 
catch-penny  shows.  Men  in  front  of  tents  were 
shouting  slangy,  picturesque  invitations  to  view  their 
marvels,  vendors  of  refreshments  cajoled  the  crowd, 
[192] 


THE  PLAISAUNCE 

while  up  and  down  couples  and  groups  of  boys 
and  girls  promenaded,  gawking  the  painted  post 
ers.  Women  predominated  even  at  this  late  hour ; 
women  and  girls  from  the  country,  brawny,  sleek 
and  jocular,  exchanging  cheap  badinage  with  roar 
ing,  prowling,  grinning  youths  who  carried  toy  ships 
and  fancy  canes. 

Tom  looked  up  and  down,  right  and  left,  but 
caught  no  sight  of  a  familiar  face.  He  then  started 
out  to  make  a  comprehensive  tour  of  the  fair.  Some 
shows  he  entered,  looked  hastily  about,  and  left  to 
scan  the  street  again.  Some  he  investigated  through 
the  open  entrance,  parleying  the  while  with  the 
outraged  ticket-taker.  Some  he  passed  by  without 
a  doubt. 

Norine  was  not  in  the  Abode  of  Mystery,  nor 
the  Haunted  Swing,  nor  the  Dutch  Bierstube.  She 
was  not  in  the  Acme  Shooting  Gallery  of  Costly 
Prizes,  nor  the  Monster  Calligraphic  Studio,  nor 
the  home  of  Lolez,  Wonder  of  the  Universe.  Nor 
was  she  riding  on  the  Toy  Railway,  the  Micro 
scopic  Miracle  of  Modern  Times.  The  crowd 
diminished ;  the  passers-by  all  made  reluctantly  in 
one  direction,  now,  the  girls  munching  California 
Fruit  Tablets,  the  women  dragging  tired  children, 
[193] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ISYL 
the  youths  still  sportive,  but  yielding  to  the  panic  of 
retreat. 

He  was  standing  on  the  platform  of  the  Palace 
of  Sweets,  gazing  down  a  side  alley  which  led  to 
the  rear  of  the  row  of  tents,  when  he  saw  a  cou 
ple  pass  and  disappear.  The  man  was  tall  and 
blond,  dressed  in  grey  tweeds ;  the  lady  was  heavily 
veiled.  Tom  whistled  a  call.  They  reappeared 
for  an  instant.  He  jumped  down  to  follow  them, 
and  fell  almost  into  the  arms  of  the  Grand  Com 
mander  of  the  Knights  of  the  Golden  Gate,  who 
had  also  been  watching  what  Tom  had  seen. 

Tom  Parrish  apologised  and  was  off  down  the 
alley  in  a  hurry,  when,  glancing  back,  he  saw  that 
the  Grand  Commander  was  coming  after  him.  Tom 
turned  in  exasperation ;  for  it  was  no  part  of  his 
plan  to  have  Norine  seen  by  this  inquisitive  school 
master.  So  he  barred  the  road,  saying, 

"  Hail,  Right  Worshipful,  whence  goest  thou  ?  ** 

The  Commander  attempted  to  pass  him  with 
dignity,  but  it  was  impossible.  "  I've  had  enough 
of  your  impertinence,  young  man,  and  where  I'm 
going  is  none  of  your  business ! "  he  said,  stiffly. 

The  couple  having  now  disappeared,  Tom's  one 
thought  was  to  keep  the  Grand  Commander  away 
[194] 


THE  PLAISAUNCE 

from  the  pursuit,  so  he  passed  over  the  remark  and 
said, 

"  I  hope  you  don't  really  bear  me  a  grudge  for 
our  little  tourney  this  A.M., — if  you  do,  you  can 
have  your  revenge  by  knowing  that  my  machine 
was  shipwrecked  and  had  to  be  towed  home, 
limping  slightly  in  her  off  hind  wheel." 

Now  the  schoolmaster,  too,  was  in  search  of 
Norine.  Having  failed  at  Golcher's,  he  had  been 
turned  from  the  quest  for  a  time  by  the  seductions 
of  the  Fair  Unknown  and  now,  at  a  loss  for  any 
definite  clew,  had  happened  into  the  Midway.  The 
glimpse  he  had  caught  of  Norine  was  his  reward, 
and  now  he  did  not  wish  to  share  the  glory  of  dis 
covery  with  this  impertinent  red-haired  youth.  The 
same  thought  flashed  across  both  minds ;  therefore 
they  dropped  their  quarrel  by  tacit  consent.  The 
Grand  Commander  summoned  up  a  grin.  The  ex 
pression  was  poorly  manufactured  for  the  occasion, 
but  it  did  service  for  a  symbol  of  amity. 

"  Oh,  I  guess  we're  quits  on  that,  then,  for  my 
buggy  was  smashed  to  pieces,"  he  replied. 

"  If  you've  nothing  particular  to  do,"  Tom  sug 
gested,  "  let's  take  in  the  show  together." 

"  Why,  I  think  I've  seen  nearly  everything  worth 
[195] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ISYL 
seeing.     Isn't  it  about  time  to  go  home  ?  "  said  the 
Grand  Commander. 

"  Go  home !  Nonsense.  'Ah,  what  hath  night 
to  do  with  sleep  ? '  Never  go  home  when  you  can 
go  to  a  better  place !  My  pockets  are  reeking  with 
gold  which  glitters.  Come  down  Fakir  Row  and 
pretend  you  believe  all  you're  told,  and  I'll  show 
you  things  as  they  were  in  the  paleozoic  age.  Come 
and  see  Flub-dub,  the  human  perodactyl,  wallow 
ing  in  slime!  Come  to  the  house  of  Abdomida, 
the hootchy-kootchy  queen!  Why,  I'll  bet  that  there 
is  material  for  seven  thoroughbred  nightmares  that 
you  haven't  peeped  at  yet !  Go  home  ?  Marry, 
no?  Look  at  this  abode  of  magic — the  Mystic  Mir 
ror  Maze !  Have  you  been  in,  to  see  yourself  re 
flected  at  forty-seven  different  angles  of  incidence  ? 
Come  in  and  get  tangled  up  with  your  counterfeit 
presentments ! " 

They  stopped  in  front  of  a  square  shed  where  a 
large,  dark  man  lolled  at  a  ticket  desk,  viewing  the 
few  remaining  sight-seers  with  an  impassive  grey 
eye. 

"  The  Mirror  Maze — really,  I  haven't  cared  to 
investigate.    Some  ingenious  adaptation  of  the  com 
mon  laws  of  optics,  I  suppose,"  said  the  school- 
[196] 


THE  PLAISAUNCE 

master,  wondering  how  in  the  world  he  could  get 
rid  of  his  garrulous  companion. 

Then  a  thought  struck  him.  Perhaps  he  might 
go  in  with  the  lad,  manage  to  lose  him  there,  and 
come  out  alone — that  would  enable  him  to  hurry 
off  in  the  direction  Norine  had  gone.  He  recalled 
the  classic  myth  of  Theseus  in  the  Cretan  labyrinth 
finding  his  way  out  by  means  of  the  clew  of  thread 
which  Ariadne  gave  him.  He  might  do  the  same 
ancient  trick,  and  leave  the  unwitting  Tom  in  the 
lurch. 

"  It  must  be  a  curious  and  interesting  place,"  he 
said,  taking  a  step  toward  the  door.  "Suppose 
we  do  look  in  for  a  little  while.  Allow  me  to  pay,  I 
beg  you !  It  is  indeed  strange  to  find  such  a  mod 
ern  replica  of  the  old-world  fancies.  Quite  interest 
ing,  I'm  sure !  Quite.  Yes,  I  would  like  to  see  if  we 
are  not  astute  enough  to  avoid  the  intricacies  of  the 
passages  and  gain  the  interior.  It  should  be  easy, 
I  imagine,  to  anyone  familiar  with  the  rudiments  of 
plane  geometry.*' 

So  saying  he  led  the  way  in  and  Tom  followed 

with  alacrity.    Each  of  the  two  had  the  same  idea 

—to  give  the  slip  to  the  other,  then  escape  and  look 

for  Norine  alone.      But,  while  Tom  expected  to 

[197] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ISYL 

avail  himself  of  nothing  but  his  common-sense  and 
quickness  of  wit,  the  schoolmaster's  method  was 
characteristically  elaborate. 

As  soon  as  they  entered,  he  allowed  Tom  to  go 
ahead.  The  young  man  darted  forward  and  was 
soon  lost  behind  a  glittering  angle  of  the  mirrored 
walls.  The  schoolmaster  drew  a  Fiesta  programme 
from  his  pocket,  and,  tearing  it  to  bits  as  he  walked, 
threw  the  scraps,  one  by  one,  behind  him.  Up  one 
passage  and  down  the  next  he  left  his  little  white 
trail,  like  Hop-o*-my-Thumb.  At  last  he  had  gone 
as  far  as  he  thought  necessary,  so  he  stopped  and 
listened.  All  was  still.  He  wondered  at  not  hear 
ing  either  Tom's  footsteps  or  his  voice,  but  the  mat 
ting  might  muffle  one  and  the  many  intervening 
walls  the  other.  Tom  was  undoubtedly,  he  thought, 
wildly  striving  for  the  central  chamber. 

The  place  was  lighted  by  electricity  with  seem 
ingly  an  endless  number  of  lamps.  The  Grand 
Commander,  thanks  to  the  mirrors,  was  enabled  to 
catch  a  hundred  full-length  pictures  of  himself.  He 
stood,  like  a  figure  of  Conceit,  entirely  surrounded 
by  himself,  front  face,  back  view,  three-quarters  and 
profile.  He  lifted  a  hand,  and  a  hundred  twin 
brothers  mimicked  his  motion.  He  smiled,  with  a 
[198] 


THE  PLAISAUNCE 

placid  satisfaction  at  his  intelligence  and  good  looks. 
A  hundred  other  Commanders,  equally  Grand  and 
Worshipful,  indorsed  him  with  smiles  of  approval. 

Then,  for  such  happiness  cannot  last  forever,  he 
started  to  retrace  his  steps  to  the  entrance,  and, 
thanks  to  his  classic  lore,  succeeded.  The  mana 
ger  of  the  Maze  was  awaiting  him  with  impatience. 
"All  out!"  he  said.  "  I'm  going  to  turn  off  the 
lights !  Your  friend  has  gone,  hasn't  he  ?  " 

For  a  second  the  Grand  Commander  hesitated, 
and  then  summoned  the  lie.  "  Yes — he  left  a  few 
moments  ago — he  said  he  couldn't  wait."  Having 
thus  committed  himself  to  the  deception,  he  was  anx 
ious  lest  Tom's  voice  should  be  heard  within,  rising  in 
protest  when  the  lights  went  out.  He  hastily  made 
his  exit,  and  went  directly  for  the  alley  where  he 
had  seen  Norine  disappear. 

From  here  he  saw  a  carriage  waiting,  some  two 
hundred  feet  away,  a  tall  blond  man  standing 
beside  it,  speaking  to  the  driver.  The  Grand 
Commander  recognised  the  grey  tweed  suit  of 
Norine's  escort,  and  was  about  to  approach  him, 
when  the  man  jumped  into  the  carriage  and  drove 
off  at  a  smart  trot.  To  follow  it  was  hopeless, 
and,  disappointed,  he  returned  to  the  Maze  to  dis- 
[199] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ISYL 
cover  what  had  happened  there.  The  manager 
was  at  his  ticket  desk,  lingering  about  in  a  way 
that  made  the  discovery  of  the  schoolmaster's  ruse 
probable  at  any  minute.  The  Grand  Commander 
found  a  balm  to  his  injured  feelings  in  a  sudden 
hope  that  he  might  make  Tom's  detention  in  the 
trap  permanent,  and  he  thought  with  relish  of  the 
lad  walking  up  and  down  the  cold  glass  passages 
till  morn  relieved  his  torment.  Hoping  to  give  his 
enemy  such  a  night,  he  approached  the  manager 
with  unctuous  affability. 

As  he  did  so,  a  last  band  of  revellers  swarmed 
past,  yelling  a  street  song,  making  noise  enough  to 
drown  the  cries  of  any  victim  imprisoned  in  the 
crystal  prison-house. 

"  Wouldn't  you  like  to  have  a  bite  of  something 
to  eat?"  suggested  the  Commander  to  the  man 
ager.  "  I'd  like  to  talk  with  you  about  your  re 
markable  enterprise.  I  was  much  interested  in  its 
construction.  I  suppose  it  is  copied  from  some  of 
the  celebrated  labyrinths  of  antiquity,  or  possibly 
the  maze  at  Hampton  Court,  for  instance." 

"  Hampton  nothing !  "  the  manager  replied.     "  I 
hired  this  outfit  ready-made  at  Sacramento  for  the 
week.     It  ain't  such  a  much.     I  don't  go  much  on 
[200] 


THE  PLAISAUNCE 

the  Maze  business.  It's  too  slow.  I  don't  mind 
having  a  drink,  if  you  say  so,  and  a  ham  sandwich 
maybe.'* 

"  As  you  like,  though  I  don't  indulge  in  intoxi 
cating  liquors  myself,"  said  the  Grand  Commander, 
and,  taking  the  man  by  the  arm,  he  led  him  gently 
away,  conversing  learnedly  the  while. 

"  May  I  ask  what  your  business  or  profession 
might  be?"  asked  the  Maze  manager,  awed  by 
the  talk.  "  You  ain't  a  preacher,  are  you  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no,"  replied  the  Grand  Commander.  "  I 
am  a  scholar — a  pedagogue.  I  am  called  a  Pro 
fessor,  though  I  can  hardly  claim  a  University 
chair.  I  am  a  teacher  of  Latin  in  the  Santa  Clara 
High  School." 

The  manager  became  much  interested.  "  I  tell 
you  what,  an  education  is  a  great  thing,  I've  always 
said.  It  puts  ideas  into  a  man's  head,  and  ideas 
are  good  in  any  business.  I'm  a  commercial 
orator,  myself." 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  I  don't  quite  follow  you," 
said  the  Latin  teacher,  puzzled  at  the  term. 

"A  commercial  orator — what  is  usually  called 
in  common  a  spieler — a  barker — and   sometimes 
even  fakir,  though  we  do  no  more  faking  than  any 
[201] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ISYL 
merchant  does  every  day  of  his  life.  Commercial 
Orator  is  the  official  and  correct  designation  of  my 
line  of  business.  This  here  Maze  racket  is  only 
on  the  side  for  to  catch  the  Fiesta  trade.  I  took 
it  off  a  man's  hands  that  owed  me  something." 

"  Oh,  I  see.  Yours  is  a  curious  profession, 
indeed.  I  have  heard  that  you  men  become 
shrewd  judges  of  human  nature.*' 

"  Human  Nature ! "  cried  the  Commercial  Ora 
tor,  "  why,  that's  nothing  but  the  A  B  C  of  the 
business.  And  the  rest  of  the  alphabet  is  talk,  or 
conversation.  The  use  of  a  dignified  and  enter 
taining  argument  or  lecture  to  convince  them  that 
don't  think  for  themselves.  My  business  consists 
in  being  able  to  tell  a  man  what  he  wants  when 
he  don't  know  himself.  And  what  does  it  ?  Talk, 
or  conversation." 

"  What  do  you  sell  ?  "  the  Grand  Commander 
asked.  By  this  time  he  felt  quite  safe,  for  they 
were  turning  into  a  refreshment  booth,  too  far 
away  for  Tom's  screams  to  carry. 

"  My  line  is  the  Chinese  Herb  and  Root  Rheu 
matism  Specific,  a  sure  cure   for   coughs,  colds, 
gout,  neuralgia,  lumbago  and  all  affections  of  the 
nerves  and  internal  organs.     I  also  carry  the  Little 
[202] 


THE  PLAISAUNCE 

French  Detective  which  enables  you  to  look  over 
the  top  of  a  transom  or  round  a  corner.  But  it 
don't  matter  what  it  is,  I've  tried  about  everything, 
and  I  can  sell  'em  all.  I  believe  I  could  pick  up  a 
cobble  stone  off  the  road  and  sell  it  to  somebody, 
for  it's  our  creed  and  theory  that  there's  a  sucker 
born  every  minute.  Talk  is  my  real  profession— 
what  I  sell  don't  count  much.  But  I  do  miss  the  ad 
vantages  of  an  education ! " 

"  Yes,"  said  the  schoolmaster,  "  an  education  is 
a  great  boon.  It  enables  a  man  to  rise  to  higher 
things." 

"  Right !  Think  of  the  new  words  and  ideas 
you  can  get  in  a  college !  Think  of  the  useful  and 
entertaining  facts  you  get  next  to,  you  can  please 
an  audience  with!  Why,  look  here!  If  I  can 
make  ten  dollars  a  day  selling  the  Chinese  Specific, 
what  couldn't  I  do  with  the  advantages  of  a  college 
education?  Why,  I  would  run  into  hundreds, 
thousands,  maybe !  But,  Lord,  people  never  seem 
to  realise  what  they  could  do  with  the  knowledge 
and  information  they  get.  I've  heard  Ingersoll 
and  Horace  Platt,  and  W.  J.  Bryan — all  educated 
talkers — and  when  it  comes  right  down  to  selling 
gold  bricks  I  could  beat  any  one  of  'em  out,  to-day." 
[203] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ISYL 
"  Certainly,  knowledge  is  power,"  acknowledged 
the  schoolmaster  as  he  ordered  beer  and  a  sand 
wich  for  the  manager  and  ice-cream  soda  for  him 
self,  "an  education  enlarges  a  man's  conversational 
gifts  greatly." 

"  Conversation !  Hell,  no !  There's  nothing  in 
it.  It's  a  waste  of  good  material.  Why  give 
away  what  you  can  sell?  The  best  job  I  ever 
done  was  to  change  a  conversationalist  into  a 
straight  business  talker." 

"  Yes  ?     And  how  was  that,  may  I  ask  ?  " 
"  Well,  they's  so  confounded  little  talking  neces 
sary  to  this   Maze  graft,  that  it  may  relieve  my 
feelings  and  keep  my  hand  in  if  I  tell  you  about  it. 
Here  goes ! "     And  he  plunged  into 

The  Commercial  Orator  s  Story 

THE  DEMONSTRATOR'S  ROMANCE 

Or,  Love  Loquacious 

WHEN  I  first  met  Susan  Handy,  she  was 
working    in    a    Beauty    Contest    at    the 
Chicago  World's  Fair,  and   I  was   sell 
ing  the  "Little  Giant  Wart  and  Mole  Eradicator" 
just  outside  the  gates  of  the  Midway  Plaisaunce. 
[204] 


THE  PLAISAUNCE 

They  being  short  of  good  blondes,  she  was 
doing  the  Albanian  Beauty  from  the  Circassian 
Mountains,  but  later,  when  the  Finnish  Para 
gon  ran  away  with  the  ticket-taker,  Sue  had  to 
change  her  wig  and  flop  the  job.  I  don't  know 
just  which  of  the  two  costumes  it  was  that 
nailed  my  heart  to  her,  but  I  hadn't  seen  her  many 
times  before  I  caught  the  Handy  complaint,  which 
happened  to  be  about  the  only  disease  I  haven't 
sold  remedies  for,  that  are  guaranteed  and  testified 
to  be  efficacious  and  reliable.  I  got  the  hankering 
for  Sue  Handy,  and  I  got  it  as  bad  as  it  comes— 
chronic,  with  alarming  symptoms  that  usually  pre 
dict  a  general  collapse,  ending  inevitably  in  mar 
riage. 

It  was  incurable ;  I  had  to  have  her ;  the  fatal 
affection  worked  in  through  my  system  like  malaria, 
giving  me  sweats  and  chills  and  a  general  irritation 
of  the  organs  that  yearn  and  hope. 

But  it  wasn't  the  togs,  nor  the  hair,  nor  the  fact 
that  she  was  such  a  favourite  as  to  be  able  to  guar 
antee  at  least  forty  votes  a  day  in  the  contest — it 
wasn't  them  that  laid  me  out.  There  was  another 
factor  in  her  general  get-up  that  welded  my  heart 
to  hers,  the  way  you  hypnotise  a  Rube  from  Mil- 
[205] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ISYL 
pitas  with  a  Patent  Pain  Pill.  It  was  the  fact  and 
circumstance  that  here  was  a  woman,  and  a  good- 
looker  at  that,  who  was  perfectly  happy  to  sit  in  a 
chair  for  fifteen  hours  a  day  without  indulging  in 
the  art  and  science  of  Talk.  It  was  her  super 
human  power  of  holding  her  jaw — her  resistance 
to  the  most  harassing  of  female  complaints — Con 
versation.  A  woman  possessed  of  them  qualities 
of  mind  and  heart  that  will  bless  a  home  with 
beefsteaks  mingled  with  peace,  and  home-made 
bread  served  in  quiet  and  silence  when  a  man 
wants  to  smoke  and  think — that  was  the  brand  of 
female  I  was  after. 

You  know  what  I  think  of  language.  As  a  gen 
eral  thing,  and  as  a  commercial  proposition,  it's  as 
much  better  than  silence  as  night  is  more  attractive 
than  day,  to  most  high-spirited  folks.  But  talk  is 
one  of  them  things  that  can  be  overdone,  and,  hand 
ling  it  as  I  do,  all  day  long,  working  it  so  as  to  pay 
on  an  average  of  four  dollars  a  thousand  words,  I 
hate  to  see  it  wasted.  I  have  use  for  every  word 
I  speak,  and  when  it  comes  to  living  in  the  same 
house  with  a  woman  who  thinks  that  guff  is  nothing 
but  something  that  makes  the  pendulum  of  the  clock 
go,  why  it  just  naturally  jolts  me. 
[206] 


THE  PLAISAUNCE 

I've  suffered  from  free  and  extravagant  talk  in 
my  time,  and  I  know  the  evil  effects  on  the  human 
system  of  being  subjected  to  too  much  language.  It 
was  my  luck  to  have  to  live  for  twelve  years  with 
an  aunt  that  spent  twenty-five  hours  a  day  trying  to 
convince  me  by  argument  that  two  and  two  was 
four.  I  left,  and  for  a  while  I  considered  myself 
talk-proof,  but  incidents  happened  which  showed 
me  that  superfluous  and  unnecessary  words  applied 
to  the  human  ear  out  of  office  hours  still  lamed  and 
bruised  me.  In  my  business,  as  Daniel  Webster 
has  said,  talk  is  capital  with  a  big  C.  And  I 
wanted  to  control  all  the  assets  if  I  married. 

So,  having  found  a  woman  that  could  bottle  her 
instincts  to  make  heedless  remarks,  I  was  for  mar 
rying  her.  But  before  I  had  a  chance  or  oppor 
tunity  to  even  make  her  acquaintance  outside  of  the 
show,  the  Beauty  Contest  busted,  and  while  I  was 
selling  the  Eradicator,  Sue  Handy  vanished  into 
the  great  unknown,  as  Robert  G.  Ingersoll  says. 

But  I  had  bought  a  picture  of  the  Finnish  Par 
agon,  and  many  a  time  nights  I'd  stand  it  up  on 
the  restaurant  table  and  think  what  a  great  and 
good  thing  it  would  be  for  me  if  I  had  a  live  one 
like  that  to  do  the  loving  and  tender,  getting  supper 
[207] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ISYL 
for  me  the  way  mother  used  to  cook  it,  and  nothing 
about  how  Mrs.  Higgly's  chickens  were  all  over 
the  turnip  patch,  and  how  many  men  went  by  the 
house  that  afternoon,  the  story  of  every  new  baby, 
and  how  did  I  like  her  go-to-meeting  gown,  and  if 
not  why  not?  And  sometimes  W  and  Y. 

When  the  Big  Fair  closed  I  worked  north  doing 
the  Indian  Doctor  in  spectacles  and  long  hair,  sell 
ing  the  Herbs  of  Life,  a  sure  cure  for  Coughs, 
Colds,  Catarrh  and  all  affections  of  the  Throat 
and  Bronchial  Tubes.  I  done  a  great  business, 
and  hired  a  coloured  Jubilee  singer  to  do  turns  on 
the  banjo. 

When  I  struck  Minneapolis,  there  was  a  Seven 
Northerland  Sisters*  Hair  Remedy  outfit  in  a  show- 
window,  with  a  commercial  orator  on  the  outside, 
giving  a  good  talk,  as  I  soon  acknowledged,  though, 
as  a  rule,  I'm  hard  to  suit  when  it  comes  down  to 
a  high-toned  and  dignified  sidewalk  lecture.  I  ad 
mit  I  got  some  points,  and,  though  I  was  of  course 
listening  more  than  seeing,  it  wasn't  long  before  I 
became  aware  and  conscious  of  the  fact  that  the 
third  Northerland  Sister,  counting  from  the  tall  end, 
was  remarkably  similar  in  form  and  figure  to  Sue 
Handy.  They  stood  back-to,  and  of  course  hair 
[208] 


THE  PLAISAUNCE 

ain't  so  much  of  a  proof,  but  after  a  while  the  row 
turned  round  front  to  demonstrate  the  treatment, 
and  it  really  was  Susy,  all  right.  And  as  usual 
she  had  her  mouth  shut,  a  circumstance  or  incident 
that  I  didn't  fail  to  notice  and  observe. 

After  the  cappers  had  started  the  selling  I  hung 
around  to  see  if  Sue  recognised  me,  but  she  was 
mighty  careful  not  to  show  signs  of  life,  and  I  had 
to  brace  the  orator  for  an  introduction,  but  he  was 
leary  of  me,  partly  from  professional  jealousy, — I'm 
known  as  a  household  word  all  over  that  country — 
and  partly,  Sue  tells  me,  owing  to  the  fact  that 
wigs  are  hot  and  you  can't  get  a  demonstrator  to 
keep  them  on  when  they're  not  working.  So  I 
waited  for  a  better  chance. 

Soon  I  heard  the  Northerland  Sisters'  concern 
was  going  to  Milwaukee,  and  it  was  just  my  luck 
that  I  had  covered  that  section  with  the  Herbs  of 
Life.  But  I  was  determined  to  follow  the  silent 
beauty,  and  so  I  sold  out  my  stock,  and  bought  up 
a  lot  of  novelties,  amongst  which  the  best  seller  was 
a  combination  instrument  that  would  do  thirteen 
different  things  besides  being  an  ornamental  pocket- 
knife,  and  containing  a  small  microscopical  view  of 
Niagara  Falls  by  moonlight.  Happy  Sam,  the 
[209] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ISYL 

Plantation  Banjo  King,  having  been  caught  helping 
himself  rather  too  freely  to  my  small  stock  of  snake 
medicine,  I  fired  him  and  secured  the  services  of  a 
good,  reliable  glass-eater  for  a  side  attraction. 

Well,  sir,  we  made  a  flying  finish  into  Milwau 
kee,  cleaning  their  pockets  and  leaving  the  dusty 
remains  all  along  the  line.  When  I  scrubbed  up 
at  the  hotel  and  asked  a  few  questions  about  the 
Northerland  girls  I  found  the  concern  had  gone  to 
pieces  on  the  way,  and  where  Sue  was  the  Lord 
only  knew.  But  I  calculated  that  she'd  be  some 
where  in  town,  and  so  I  made  a  tour  of  the  shop 
windows.  Pretty  soon,  sure  enough,  I  found  her. 
You'd  never  guess  her  graft  this  time.  She  was 
demonstrating  mackintoshes.  Understand  now? 

Why,  a  guy  had  bought  up  a  line  of  damaged 
rain  coats  from  a  fire  sale  in  a  job  lot,  and  he  had 
hired  a  store  and  was  taking  advantage  of  the  rainy 
weather  to  close  them  out.  He  had  the  window 
rigged  up  with  a  tank  bottom,  and  it  was  my  Susy's 
job  to  stand  there  all  day,  dressed  in  a  rubber  coat 
and  hood  complete,  with  only  her  eyes  showing, 
while  water  ran  over  her  from  the  nozzle  of  a  hose 
hitched  to  the  ceiling.  The  thing  took  fine,  and 
she  had  a  crowd  in  front  of  the  window  all  day 
[210] 


THE  PLAISAUNCE 

long.  She  didn't  move,  only  her  eyes,  which  turned 
regular  every  half  minute,  like  they  were  clock-work, 
and  she  had  the  whole  town  guessing  whether  she 
was  a  real  live  woman  or  only  an  automata.  It 
wasn't  so  comfortable  as  the  Northerland  work,  and 
I  never  saw  why  she  didn't  catch  her  death  of  cold, 
but  she  did  have  on  what  was  probably  the  only 
mackintosh  in  the  lot  that  didn't  leak.  The  fellow 
sold  them  like  hot  waffles. 

Sue  stopped  her  eyes  for  a  half  a  second  when 
she  saw  me,  and  I  took  that  as  an  encouragement. 
But  she  kept  her  jaw  shut,  as  usual,  and  I  says  to 
myself  she  won't  escape  me  this  time.  Nothing 
venture,  nothing  have;  a  coward  never  made  a 
fortune,  as  E.  P.  Roe  says,  and  a  faint  heart  never 
won  a  fair  lady.  So  I  decided  to  strike  while  the 
iron  was  hot. 

I  went  in,  and  found  out  that  the  proprietor 
was  an  old  friend  of  mine — Bledsoe,  who  used 
to  handle  a  line  of  automatic  indelible  pencils  all 
through  Ohio — and  I  says, 

"  Hello,  Bill,  now's  the  time  to  get  goods  cheap, 
I  s'pose,  while  they're  going  fast  ?  " 

Fie  grinned.  "Want  a  rubber  coat?"  he  says. 
"  I  guess  I  can  pick  you  out  one  in  the  back  room 
[211] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ISYL 

that  ain't  too  full  of  holes,  seeing  you're  one  of  the 
family." 

"  No  coats  for  me,"  I  says.  "  You  ain't  got  but 
one  thing  in  stock  that  suits  me,  but  I've  got  to  have 
that!" 

"  Name  it,"  he  says,  "  and  I'll  give  you  the  trade 
discount." 

"The  name's  Handy  now,"  I  says.  "But  if 
I  have  my  way,  it'll  be  changed  in  about  two 
hours ! " 

"  Oh,  you  won't  get  her''  Bill  says.  "  She  don't 
go  much  on  men  noways." 

I  was  mad,  kind  of.  I  says,  "  Well,  if  she  don't 
like  travelling  in  my  waggon  better  than  spending  her 
life  under  a  leaky  hosepipe,  making  a  wax-works 
dummy  of  herself  for  the  yaps  to  stare  at,"  I  says, 
"  then  there  ain't  no  virtue  in  my  powers  of  per 
suasion.  See  here,  Bill,"  I  says,  "  you  know  me  by 
name  an d  reputation.  You  know  what  I've  done 
in  the  business.  You  know  I  can  talk  the  money 
out  of  a  yahoo's  pocket  or  the  whitewash  off  a 
board  fence  equally  as  well.  What  in  thunder  did 
heaven  give  me  the  gift  of  gab  for,  if  I  can't  remove 
the  objections  from  the  heart  of  a  young  and  wish 
ful  female?" 

[212] 


THE  PLAISAUNCE 

Well,  he  introduced  me  that  night,  and  I  put  up 
my  talk  without  losing  no  time. 

"Look  here,  Miss  Handy,"  I  says,  "Henry 
Clay  has  said  that  a  man  without  an  object  is  like 
a  ship  without  a  rudder.  I  would  not  have  per 
mitted  myself  to  come  and  gaze  upon  you  on  sun 
dry  and  numerous  occasions,  nor  would  I  be  stand 
ing  before  you  here  and  now,  if  I  had  no  object. 
My  acquaintance  with  you  is  short,  but  my  powers 
of  observation  are  large,  and  I  have  detected  and 
remarked  in  you  a  true  and  loving  nature  or  char 
acter  that  fits  like  a  dove-tail  into  my  own.  I  offer 
you  an  honest  heart  and  a  willing  hand,  and  a 
bank  account  that  never  fails,  for  it  lies  in  a  jaw 
that  has  power  to  charm  and  beguile,  also  a  life  in 
terest  in  the  Jack-of-all-Trades  pocket  tool-chest 
combining  in  one  and  the  same  instrument  thirteen 
distinct  and  separate  useful  and  helpful  tools  for  the 
workshop  or  household,  not  to  speak  of  the  view 
of  Niagara  Falls  upon  the  inside.  For  references 
apply  to  my  friend  and  contemporary,  Bill  Bledsoe. 
An  early  answer  is  requested,  as  we  move  out  of 
town  to-morrow." 

She  told  me  to  call  next  day.  I  did  so,  and  she 
took  me.  When  it  comes  to  an  argument  I  always 
[213] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ISYL 
win.  At  9  A.M.  I  got  my  answer,  and  at  9.50 
we  were  in  the  waggon  moving  toward  Duluth, 
and  the  Justice  of  the  Peace  at  Milwaukee  had 
ten  dollars  in  his  pocket,  and  Bill  Bledsoe  a  box 
of  Superior  Key  West  Cigars. 

Marriage  was  one  blissful  dream  for  about  two 
hours.  It  took  about  that  long  for  the  new  to  wear 
off  of  it  for  her,  and  for  her  to  realise  that  now 
she'd  struck  a  job  that  didn't  require  her  to  deprive 
herself  of  the  pleasure  of  speech. 

Then  I  discovered  that  I  had  married  a  conver 
sationalist.  Wasn't  that  a  package  to  hand  out  to 
a  man  for  a  wedding  present?  It  put  icicles  in  my 
boots  for  the  whole  honeymoon.  I  was  married  to 
the  exact  and  particular  brand  of  woman  I  had 
been  avoiding  for  a  lifetime.  She  lifted  up  her 
voice,  and  I  had  to  stand  for  it.  What  d'ye  think 
of  that? 

Along  toward  night  I  saw  I'd  have  to  do  some 
thing  about  it,  or  go  crazy.  I  sat  down  alongside 
of  her  and  put  my  arm  around  her  in  the  way  I  had 
acquired  a  legal  and  proper  right  to  do,  and  I  voiced 
sentiments  that  pained  and  wounded  her. 

"  For  the  Land's  sakes ! "  she  says.     "  Why,  I 
only  married  you  mostly  to  have  somebody  to  talk 
[214] 


THE  PLAISAUNCE 

to !  I  thought  you  had  to  use  your  voice  so  much 
in  the  street  daytimes,  you'd  be  glad  to  listen !  I've 
been  working  for  three  years,"  she  says,  "  on  jobs 
where  I  wasn't  allowed  to  say  a  word  in  business 
hours,  and  you  have  no  idea  what  a  relief  it  is  to 
have  somebody  to  talk  to  by  daylight ! " 

And  then  she  bust  into  tears,  which  is  about  the 
only  form  of  argument  I  ain't  able  to  meet.  So  I 
passed  it  up,  and  let  her  go,  and  bore  it  as  well  as 
I  could. 

All  the  unspeakable  thoughts  and  ideas  she  had 
saved  up  and  suppressed  while  she  was  working 
in  the  Beauty  Contest,  and  demonstrating  for  the 
Northerland  Sisters,  and  at  the  Mackintosh  Sale,  and 
for  Heaven  knows  how  many  years  before  that,  she 
begun  to  let  them  out.  It  was  like  the  leaking  of  a  big 
dam.  First  would  come  out  a  few  words  at  a  time, 
like  drops,  then  sentences,  then  chapters,  then  regu 
lar  novels,  and  finally  whole  Public  Libraries  of  talk. 
She  didn't  stop  except  for  meals ;  I  know  she  talked 
in  her  sleep.  She  seemed  determined  to  cover  the 
whole  range  of  subjects  that  man's  experience  and 
wisdom  has  discovered,  and  she  done  it  in  a  way 
that  struck  me  as  being  durn  fool. 

Otherwise,  I  can  venture  to  assert  without  fear 
[215] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ISYL 

of  successful  contradiction  that  our  married  life 
was  what  a  noted  American  poet  has  called  "  one 
long,  sweet  song/'  It  was  something  like  living  to 
eat  her  cooking,  and  have  your  duds  packed  where 
you  could  find  them  when  you  moved,  and  Sue's 
looks  were  the  kind  that  stand  wear,  tear  and  rust 
in  any  climate. 

But  to  have  to  come  at  night  and  find  her  all 
swelled  up  with  talk  like  a  pink  balloon  got  to  be 
so  trying  I  couldn't  stand  it.  But  she  would  have 
busted  if  she  didn't  let  the  conversation  out  of  her 
self.  She  used  language  till  I  had  to  go  to  bed  and 
sleep  it  off.  If  she  couldn't  tell  a  story  four  or  five 
different  ways,  she  seemed  to  feel  that  it  wasn't 
done  justice  to.  It  was  the  extravagance  of  it  that 
hurt  me.  Why,  that  woman  used  as  good  hot  talk 
on  me  as  if  she  was  selling  Alaska  diamonds  to  a 
farmer!  It  is  a  curious  and  instructive  scientific 
fact  that  one  female  mackerel  or  codfish  lays  up 
ward  of  a  million  eggs  a  day.  Sue  was  that  way ; 
for  one  idea,  she'd  produce  about  a  million  words. 
Gosh !  It  was  awful. 

I  reasoned  with  her  all  I  could,  but  it  was  no  use. 
She  only  cried.  Then  I  got  so  sick  of  it  I  didn't 
answer  her  when  she  asked  me  questions,  and  let 

[216] 


THE  PLAISAUNCE 

her  run  on  alone.   Then  I  used  to  stay  away  nights. 
It  began  to  look  considerable  like  divorce. 

Finally,  one  day,  Sue  said  she  had  a  sore  throat. 
Next  morning  she  claimed  it  was  worse.  I  wanted 
to  call  in  a  doctor,  but  she  wouldn't  have  one.  She 
grew  hoarser  and  hoarser,  till  finally  she  couldn't 
talk  at  all !  Then  I  was  scared.  She  was  as  dumb 
as  if  she  had  been  born  without  the  power  of 
speech.  I  thought  it  was  a  judgment  on  me  for 
complaining.  The  first  two  or  three  days  it  was  a 
blessed  relief  to  have  her  so  shy  of  talk  that  they 
was  plenty  of  room  in  the  air  for  the  atmosphere  ; 
but  when  I  found  she  couldn't  talk  I  was  just 
unreasonable  enough  to  pine  for  her  voice.  That's 
the  fool  way  men  are  built.  Reminds  me  of  the 
song  happy  Joe  used  to  sing : 

"As  a  rule,  mans  a  fool; 
When  it's  hot  he  wants  it  cool, 
When  it's  cool  he  wants  it  hot, 
Always  wanting  what  is  not; 
— Mans  a  fool !  ** 

So  I  called  in  Old  Nat  Hermistone,  who  hap 
pened  to  be  in  town  selling  the  Marvellous  Puritan 
Buchu  Panacea  and  Liver  Liberator,  for  besides 
[217] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ISYL 
being  one  of  the  profession  and  as  such  to  be  en 
couraged,  he  was  a  regular  doctor,  graduated  from 
a  Correspondence  School  of  Medicine  in  Iowa,  and 
had  effected  some  marvellous  cures.  He  was  a  friend 
of  mine,  and  it's  safe  to  say  he  didn't  prescribe  Bu- 
chu  Panacea.  He  looked  Sue  over,  tapped  her 
lungs  and  said  it  was  a  partial  paralysis  of  the 
salivary  glands  and  the  mucous  membrane  combined 
with  an  inflammation  of  the  epiglottis,  or  words  to 
that  effect.  He  give  me  a  drug-store  prescription 
in  Latin  and  refused  to  charge.  He  said  Sue'd 
come  around  all  right  if  she  got  good  nursing. 

Well,  as  I  say,  I  didn't  seem  to  experience  the 
sense  and  satisfaction  of  relief  I  would  have  ex 
pected  had  I  known  she  was  going  to  be  struck 
dumb.  I  worried  a  heap,  and  when  I  got  home 
nights,  first  thing  I  did  was  to  go  up  to  her  and  say, 
" Can't  you  speak  yet,  Susy?'*  and  every  time  she 
just  shook  her  head  and  smiled  patient-like,  and  I'd 
kiss  her. 

I  tried  Dr.  Sanger's  Electric  Treatment  on  her 
neck,  but  it  was  no  good.  Sue  begun  to  complain 
by  signs  of  pain  in  her  throat.  I  was  just  fool 
enough  to  buy  a  magic  talisman  of  a  band  of  gip 
sies  we  met  going  through  the  town,  and  for  a 
[218] 


THE  PLAISAUNCE 

while  I  thought  it  helped  her  some,  but  she  got 
worse  again.  It  went  on  so  for  four  weeks  till 
finally  I  couldn't  stand  it.  It  nearly  broke  me  up  in 
business,  for  I  couldn't  seem  to  keep  my  mind  on 
my  talk  while  I  was  on  the  street,  thinking  of  Sue 
there  at  home,  not  being  able  to  tell  me  how  fond 
she  was  of  me  and  all  the  little  fool  things  a  man 
don't  miss  till  he  can't  get  them  any  more.  I 
didn't  burn  much  gasoline  on  the  corner  them 
nights,  but  put  right  back  home  at  sundown  and 
tended  on  Sue,  telling  her  funny  stories  and  trying 
to  brace  up  her  spirits. 

Well,  one  night  I  was  pretty  blue,  for  Sue  was 
coughing  hard,  and  I  knelt  down  by  her  chair  and 
put  my  arms  around  her  and  says, 

"  Oh,  Susy,  if  I  could  only  hear  you  speak  again 
I'd  be  happy  all  the  rest  of  my  life ! "  And  I 
meant  it. 

Then  all  of  a  sudden  Sue  up  and  says,  as  loud 
and  natural  as  if  she  hadn't  never  had  nothing  the 
matter  with  her, 

"  Would  you  mind  writing  that  down,  James,  so 
that  I  can  keep  it  by  me  ?  " 

Then  I  see  the  game.  You  talk  about  the  power 
of  the  human  will !  Think  of  a  woman  holding  her 
[219] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ISYL 
tongue  for  four  weeks  on  purpose  to  bring  a  man 
round  to  his  senses !  I  tell  you,  we  don't  half  know 
about  women,  yet.  We'll  never  learn,  neither. 
Women  are  certainly  curious  folks.  We  can't  get 
along  with  them,  and  we  can't  get  along  without 
them! 

Of  course  I  was  mad,  but  I  saw  the  point,  and 
I  admitted  my  share  of  the  blame,  and  it  did  me 
good.  She  never  had  to  show  me  that  paper  I'd 
written,  you  bet.  But  I  didn't  lose  anything.  I  just 
took  them  conversational  powers  of  Sue's  and  I 
educated  them  by  careful  training  so  they  could  be 
used  as  a  means  of  livelihood,  instead  of  merely 
making  the  clock  go,  for  amusement,  you  might  say. 
Susy's  the  best  female  commercial  orator  in  the 
business  to-day,  bar  none.  She  makes  a  house- 
to-house  canvass  for  the  Boon  to  Womankind — 
Needle-threading  Device  and  the  Marvel  Exer 
ciser,  while  I  handle  the  Chinese  Specific  in  the 
street.  We  got  the  other  outfits  skinned  a  mile, 
and  when  we  leave  a  town  it  means  that  every 
stocking's  emptied  and  the  tin  banks  shook  out. 

Say, — what  d'ye  think?  I  got  a  wonder  of  a 
youngster.  Do  you  know,  that  kid  could  talk  when 
he  was  five  months  old ! 

[220] 


THE  CARNIVAL 

IX 
THE  CARNIVAL 

fl  HOW  Sir  Tomas  the  Scalawag  brought  a  letter 
from  La  jQeale  Norine  and  rescued  Queen  /sp/  from 
captivity.  How  heralds  let  crp  a  Masque  of  Unrea 
son.  Of  a  fool  who  usurped  the  throne  and  wooed 
the  Queen.  Of  the  unmasking,  and  how  La  Qeale 
Norine  was  found:  The  Tale  of  Love  Politic. 

AT  the  stroke  of  twelve  Tom  Parrish  entered 
the  office  of  the  Chief  of  Police.     Isyl  was 
not  surprised;  her  intuition  had  told  her 
that  he  would  not  fail  her.     The  Chief  looked 
relieved,  Bob  Almeric  expectant. 

The  young  man  drew  a  letter  from  his  pocket, 
and,  with  a  mock  military  salute,  handed  it  to  the 
boss.  Almeric  tore  open  the  envelope  and  read 
the  contents. 

Then,  striking  the  paper  with  his  fist,  he  uttered 
an  oath  and  got  up  to  pace  the  floor,  his  face  drawn 
in  anger.  No  one  dared  question  him,  but  the  four 
witnesses  of  his  excitement  awaited  in  silence  the 
coming  storm,  their  eyes  on  his  scowl.  A  word 
[221] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ISYL 

then  would  have  been  dangerous,  and  Tom  alone 
dared  smile.  But  the  old  man's  countenance  grad 
ually  lost  its  tension,  and,  after  a  trying  suspense, 
they  saw  his  eyes  twinkle,  and  a  dry,  cool  smile 
creep  forth.  Then  he  turned  to  them,  slapping  his 
hand  upon  his  knee. 

"Well,  I'll  be  hanged!"  he  cried,  "if  that  girl 
of  mine  hasn't  got  the  makings  of  a  politician,  all 
right!  I've  run  this  county  for  fifteen  years,  and 
nobody  ever  got  ahead  of  me  before.  It  took  a 
girl,  and  a  girl  of  my  own,  you  bet,  to  do  it !  I'm 

beaten.     I  lay  down.     She's  a  better  worker  than 

11 " 
am! 

"  What's  up  ?  "  the  Chief  now  ventured  to  ask. 

"  Never  mind,  the  whole  town  will  know  by  to 
morrow,"  said  Almeric. 

"  And  what  about  the  ring  ?  "  Isyl  inquired. 

"The  ring,"  the  boss  answered,  quoting  from 
the  letter  in  his  hand,  "  was  presented  to  Thomas 
Parrish  by  my  daughter  in  grateful  recognition  of 
services  rendered  to  her  on  Thursday  night  at 
Golcher's  road-house,  and  many  other  favours 
before  and  since."  He  turned  to  Tom.  "  I  under 
stand  your  favours.  I  had  the  pleasure  of  reading 
a  little  pamphlet  of  yours,  I  believe — I  was  much 
[222] 


THE  CARNIVAL 

interested  in  your  ideas  on  matrimony.  If  Norine 
hadn't  left  it  on  my  library  table,  things  would  have 
been  different."  He  could  not  help  laughing,  nor 
could  Tom,  but  Isyl  was  strangely  puzzled. 

"  Well,  then,  Miss  Shea,  I  guess  you  can  go 
home  now.  I'm  glad  this  matter  has  been  cleared 
up,"  said  the  Chief. 

"  I  don't  see  that  it's  cleared  up  at  all ! "  Isyl 
said.  "I  think  I  ought  to  have  an  explanation 
myself ! " 

"Your  friend  can  explain  all  he  wants  to,  on 
the  way  home,"  put  in  the  boss.  "  I've  thrown  up 
my  hands.  But  as  for  you,  young  fellow,  you've 
beaten  me  out,  and  I'll  see  you  later.  You're  too 
smart  for  this  town,  and  if  you  decide  to  stay  I 
guess  I'll  have  to  pack  up  and  go  myself." 

Tom  smiled  at  the  compliment  and  replied, 

"  Very  good,  sir.  If  I'm  able  to  manage  my  own 
affairs  as  well  as  I  do  others'  I'll  send  you  my  p.  p.  c. 
within  a  month,  and  leave  you  no  rival  to  the  title 
of  the  Smart  Alec  of  Santa  Clara  County.  You'll 
excuse  me  if  I  seem  to  tear  myself  and  Miss  Shea 
away.  We  have  several  light  housekeeping  ques 
tions  to  discuss." 

"  Go  ahead !     If  you  stay  here  a  minute  longer  I 
[223] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ISYL 
suppose  you'll  get  me  to  make  you  Mayor  of  San 
Jose."     Then,  as  the  two  disappeared,  he  nodded 
to  the  Chief  of  Police,  and  said,  "  That  chap  will 
stand  a  little  watching,  Jack !  " 

The  Chamberlain  had  been  ignored  in  this  leave- 
taking,  for  Isyl  was  still  too  indignant  at  his  conduct 
to  accept  his  escort,  even  if  Tom  had  not  appeared 
to  claim  the  privilege  as  his  undoubted  right.  They 
got  into  the  carriage ;  and  Tom,  without  much 
trouble,  gained  possession  of  her  hand. 

She  drew  it  away,  however,  to  ask,  "  Tell  me, 
first  of  all,  Mr.  Parrish,  who  was  that  Spanish- 
looking  girl  I  saw  you  with  to-day  ?  " 

He  had  tact  enough  to  stifle  a  rising  remark 
about  "green-eyed  monsters"  and  to  answer  sim 
ply,  "  Why,  that  was  Dolores,  our  nurse-girl  out  at 
the  ranch.  She  has  executive  authority  over  my 
two  kid  sisters.  At  least,  that's  who  she  was. 
From  all  I  have  seen  and  heard,  I  strongly  suspect 
that  now  she's  the  future  Grand  Commanderess — 
the  Mrs.  Ardley  to-be.  She  certainly  has  made  a 
killing  with  the  schoolmaster ! " 

Isyl  gave  a  smile  of  relief,  and  her  hand  again 
glided  dangerously  near  Tom's. 

"  The  Knights  of  the  Golden  Gate  told  me  such 
[224] 


THE  CARNIVAL 

a  strange  story — what  was  it  about  her  being  the 
cousin  of  a  Spanish  heiress  who  had  run  away  ? 
How  did  she  happen  to  be  shut  up  in  Golcher's 
alone,  anyway  ?  " 

"  Oh,  did  you  hear  that  ?  We  cooked  up  that 
fairy-tale  on  the  way  out,  while  I  was  heading  off 
the  Knights.  It's  an  old  Mexican  folk-story,  cut 
over  and  trimmed  up  to  fit  the  situation." 

"  But  what  was  the  situation  ?  " 

"  That's  part  of  the  secret  that  I  can't  tell,  yet 
All  you  need  to  know  is  that  Norine  had  to  leave 
Golcher's  in  a  big  hurry,  and  it  was  up  to  me  to 
get  Golcher  and  his  wife  away,  and  hold  the  gay 
adventurers  there  till  Norine  was  safe  off.  So  we 
collaborated,  said  nurse-girl  and  I,  and  she  did  it 
very  well  indeed.  That  girl  certainly  ought  to 
write  for  the  '  Black  Cat.'"~ 

"  But  I  don't  understand  it  at  all,  even  now ! " 
said  Isyl. 

"  You  don't  have  to  yet,  little  girl.  You  just 
give  me  Power  of  Attorney  over  your  emotions, 
and  I'll  guarantee  that  they'll  pay  big  dividends." 

"  I  don't  understand,"  Isyl  repeated  somewhat 
dreamily,  "  and  Tom,  the  funniest  part  of  it  is  that 
I  don't  care.  It's  all  like  *  Alice  in  Wonderland* 
[225] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ISYL 
to  me,  and  I'm  perfectly  willing  to  drift  along  till  I 
wake  up.  But  don't  wake  me  up,  please,  Tom ! 
I'm  not  clever  at  all.  I  don't  know  just  what  you're 
driving  at,  half  the  time,  but  I'm  a  woman  and  I 
have  intuition.  I  know  I  can  trust  you.  Why  is 
it?" 

"  Don't  you  know  why  ?  "  Tom  asked. 

Isyl  did  not  reply.  She  did  know,  and  she  was 
drifting  fast  in  Tom's  direction.  But  she  was  su 
premely  happy  in  his  care,  and  the  rest  did  not 
matter. 

All  that  night  she  thought  of  it ;  of  it  and  of  him. 
The  mystery  of  Norine's  absence  she  did  not  try  to 
fathom,  but  as  it  pointed  everywhere  at  Tom,  it 
was  of  him  she  dreamed. 

She  went  through  the  next  day  mechanically,  do 
ing  as  she  was  told,  wondering  when  and  where 
she  would  meet  him.  Seated  with  her  Maids  of 
Honour  at  the  Athletic  Field  Day  sports,  at  the  in 
evitable  luncheon,  on  the  way  back,  dressing  for 
the  evening  festivities,  it  was  the  same.  She  got 
through  with  it  somehow  without  having  once  seen 
her  lover.  It  was  a  long,  long  day. 

That  night  was  set  for  the  Carnival  which  was 
to  end  the  Fiesta  and  her  reign.    At  this  masquer- 
[226] 


THE  CARNIVAL 

ade  ball  the  Queen  was  to  share  the  throne  with 
Rex,  King  of  Unreason,  and,  as  it  happened,  a 
man  whom  she  particularly  disliked.  She  dread 
ed  it. 

By  the  time  the  royal  coach  and  outriders  had 
called  for  her,  the  town  was  running  over  with  gai 
ety.  As  Isyl  looked  from  the  windows  of  her  car 
riage  she  saw  a  romping,  costumed  populace  let 
loose  upon  the  streets.  The  Carnival  was  in  full 
swing.  Men  with  grotesque  masks  and  women  in 
domino  and  visor  swarmed  everywhere.  They 
waved  flags,  showered  confetti,  laughed,  shrieked 
and  danced.  Fire-crackers  and  tin  horns  made  a 
hideous  tumult.  The  coach  had  much  trouble  in 
passing  through  the  crowd  which  had  taken  pos 
session  of  the  streets,  and  everywhere,  as  the  Queen 
passed,  she  was  hailed  with  shouts,  surrounded  by 
whooping  maskers,  and  pelted  with  flowers  till  her 
outriders  had  to  close  in  on  rearing  horses  to  pro 
tect  her. 

As  they  went  under  the  electric-light  tower  on 
Market  Street,  a  Maid  of  Honour  pointed  to  a 
crowd  more  boisterous  than  any  that  had  been  seen 
before.  It  was  coming  in  a  wild  procession,  a  herd 
of  frolicsome  youths  in  eccentric  costumes,  headed 
[227] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ISYL 

by  a  masked  captain  dressed  as  a  jester  with  cap  and 
bells,  hood  and  parti-coloured  doublet.  He  led  the 
way,  slashing  at  wayfarers  with  a  bladder  on  a  stick, 
singing  his  orders  to  his  motley  retinue.  This  regi 
ment  of  fools  closed  in  behind  the  royal  equipage 
and  advanced  on  the  Pavilion,  growing  more  reck 
less  every  moment.  As  they  were  lost  to  sight  by 
a  turn  of  the  Alameda,  they  were  marching,  arm-in 
arm,  some  twenty  abreast  in  a  wavering  rank,  oc 
cupying  the  whole  width  of  the  street,  sweeping  all 
before  them,  the  clown  at  their  head  haranguing 
them  and  inciting  them  to  new  abandon. 

White  with  confetti,  and  almost  torn  to  pieces  by 
the  madness  of  her  welcome  in  the  hall,  Isyl  reached 
her  throne  and  the  ball  was  opened.  She  was  ac 
companied  to  the  dais  by  Rex,  King  of  Unreason, 
a  collar  manufacturer,  whose  sole  qualification  for 
the  honourable  position  of  Royal  Consort  was  that 
he  had  subscribed  a  thousand  dollars  to  the  Fiesta 
fund. 

He  was  fat  and  bald,  and,  the  exertion  having 
winded  him,  he  heaved  an  audible  sigh  of  relief  to 
find  himself  out  of  reach  of  the  mob.  He  wiped 
the  perspiration  from  his  brow,  and  then,  having  paid 
to  be  stared  at,  he  assumed  as  kingly  an  attitude  as 
[228] 


THE  CARNIVAL 

was  possible,  and  began  to  bore  his  Queen.  She 
would  have  preferred  to  be  there  alone,  as  she  was 
on  the  night  of  the  Coronation,  rather  than  endure 
this  creature's  companionship ;  but  as  it  happened 
she  had  not  long  to  suffer. 

The  second  dance  was  over.  Rex,  having  failed 
to  amuse  the  Queen,  was  ogling  her  Maids  of 
Honour  with  small  success,  and  Isyl  was  greeting  a 
group  of  friends  who  had  come  up  to  compliment 
her,  when  a  sudden  irruption  of  visitors  caused  a 
tumult  in  the  hall. 

The  masked  jester  in  motley  burst  in  at  the  head 
of  his  crew  shouting  "  Revolution!  Revolution ! "  and 
charged  up  toward  the  throne,  sweeping  the  prom 
enading  couples  right  and  left.  The  audience  in 
the  galleries  craned  their  necks  and  gazed  over 
shoulders  to  see  what  new  folly  was  to  come.  Fol 
lowed  by  his  insane  band,  the  fool  made  straight 
for  the  dais,  leaped  up  in  front  of  the  throne  and 
raised  his  hand  for  silence. 

"  Revolution ! "  he  cried  again.  "  Down  with  the 
lobster  who  has  usurped  the  throne !  Down  with 
the  fat  skeleton  of  the  feast !  Down  with  the  dub 
who  rankles  in  our  bosom !  Down  with  Rex  and 
up  with  Scalawag,  King  of  Fools ! "  He  made  a 
[229] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ISYL 
gesture  at  the  cowering  collar  manufacturer,  and 
the  revolutionists  leaped  up  and  dragged  the  King 
down  to  the  floor.  Here  he  was  stifled  under  a 
storm  of  confetti,  and,  twisted  and  man-handled, 
jostled  and  hustled,  he  was  rushed  out  of  the  hall. 
He  did  not  return.  They  tore  his  crown  from  his 
head,  his  sceptre  from  his  hand,  and  bore  the  em 
blems  in  triumph  to  the  jester  on  the  dais.  A  cry 
of  "  speech !  speech ! "  arose  from  all  over  the  hall, 
and  the  tyrant  stepped  forth  to  reply. 

"Friends  and  fellow-citizens,  I  thank  you  for 
this  enthusiastic  reception ! "  he  commenced.  '  *  If 
chance  will  have  me  king,  why,  chance  may  crown 
me ! '  as  Macbeth  has  truly  said.  Sorely  against 
my  will,  I  am  compelled  to  accept  this  modest  emi 
nence  and  become  the  cynosure  of  all  opera-glasses. 
Make  merry,  my  subjects,  during  my  brief  but  mel 
low  reign !  No  sleep  till  morn,  let  joy  be  uncon- 
fined !  Forget  the  sombre  presence  of  the  wooden 
Indian  who  sat  upon  my  throne,  in  the  delirious 
ecstasy  of  the  twittering  two-step!  The  Fiesta 
draws  to  an  end — make  that  end  sharp  and  pointed 
as  an  entry-clerk's  lead-pencil !  On  with  the  dance ! 
Remember  I  see  you,  and  every  frown  shall  be 
punished  with  a  sentence  of  death !  Who  smiles 
[230] 


THE  CARNIVAL 

shall  be  made  a  count,  who  giggles  a  marquis,  and 
who  laughs  aloud,  a  Duke !  Make  love  and  mis 
chief  merrily,  till  the  gunpowder  runs  out  of  the 
heels  of  your  boots !  Forget  sorrow  while  I  reign 
here  with  Her  Entrancing  Majesty,  Queen  Isyl  the 
First!  Selah!!" 

A  salvo  of  applause  greeted  him ;  the  orchestra 
struck  up  to  an  accompaniment  of  laughter  and  his 
fools  scattered  firebrands  of  mirth  into  the  crowd 
till  the  place  was  afire  with  jollity. 

At  first  Isyl  had  been  terrified  at  the  sedition, 
but  the  moment  the  jester  opened  his  mouth  she 
saw  the  plot  and  knew  the  usurper  to  be  Tom  Par- 
rish.  Who  else,  indeed,  would  have  dared  openly 
to  defy  the  Court  established  by  the  '  Drag  *  ?  She 
welcomed  him  with  a  smile  and  an  outstretched 
hand  as  he  dropped  to  a  seat  beside  her  and  re 
moved  his  mask. 

"Idiot,**  she  said,  softly,  "what  will  you  do 
next?*' 

"Next?  Next?**  he  repeated.  "Why,  next  I 
shall  produce  the  royal  favour  and  beg  the  promised 
forgiveness !  '*  He  reached  inside  his  doublet  and 
brought  out  her  lace  handkerchief. 

"I  have  nothing  to  forgive,  yet.     I  have  only 
[231] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ISYL 
thankfulness  to  you.     This  is  the  third  time  you 
have  rescued  me ! " 

"  In  the  old  fairy-book  times,'*  said  Tom,  "  the 
youthful  hero  was  given  three  quests,  and — do  you 
remember  how  he  was  rewarded  after  he  had  ac 
complished  them  all?'* 

"  No,"  said  Isyl,  though  a  sudden  blush  convicted 
her  of  untruth. 

"Shall  I  tell  you?"  he  asked. 

"  No,  no, — not  yet,"  she  cried,  frightened  at  the 
prospect. 

"  Very  well,**  said  Tom,  and  he  looked  unutter 
ably  serious  for  a  moment,  a  thing  that  frightened 
Isyl  still  more.  She  knew  what  was  coming,  now, 
but  it  was  all  so  ridiculously  soon  that  she  dared 
not  hear,  dared  not  decide  the  question.  She  would 
infinitely  rather  it  went  on  this  way,  vague  and  in 
definite  and  mysterious,  with  a  delicious  prospect 
of  possibly  pleasanter  to-morrows,  but  it  was  hard 
to  put  him  off. 

"  Oh,  it's  not  right  for  you  to  talk  to  me  like 
this,*'  she  cried.  "Just  think  what  a  short  time 
we've  known  each  other ! " 

"  How  about  that  blessed  intuition  of  yours ! " 
he  asked.     "Are  you  going  to  discount  it  now?" 
[232] 


THE  CARNIVAL 

"  But  I  have  common-sense  as  well ! " 

"  Haven't  you  any  uncommon-sense,  too  ?  ** 

"Yes—but " 

"  Don't  be  afraid,  little  girl !  I  have  a  teaspoon- 
ful  of  intuition  myself.  It'll  all  come  out  right,  don't 
you  worry.  You  leave  it  to  me,  and  I'll  make  an 
artistic  job  of  the  affair.  You'll  just  let  me  hold 
your  hand,  shut  your  eyes,  and  it  won't  hurt  but  a 
moment.  Then  when  you  come  to,  your  heart  will 
be  gone.  Painless  love  made  without  the  use  of 
anaesthetics  by  Dr.  Parrish.  No  pay  unless  cured." 

"When  did  you  first — first  feel  this  way,  idiot?" 
she  said,  continuing  in  spite  of  her  resolution  to  sup 
press  him. 

"When  I  stood  down  there  in  the  crowd  and 
saw  you  crowned.  That  was  the  psychological  mo 
ment  when  the  lightning  fell  from  Heaven.  You  see, 
I  had  taken  a  contract  to  look  after  you,  so  I  did  it. 
I  promised  to  see  that  you  had  a  good  time.  Did 
you  ?  " 

Isyl  dared  not  answer. 

"  But  there  was  no  limit  set,  and  so  I  suppose  I'll 
have  to  do  it  for  the  rest  of  your  natural  life." 

"  Will  it  always  be  as  nice  as  this  ?  "  she  asked, 
with  a  more  daring  smile. 

[233] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ISYL 

"  Mostly  better.  I  can  guarantee  my  affection 
against  moths,  rust,  frost,  mildew  and  chilblains." 

"  What  was  your  wish,  when  you  put  this  ring 
on  my  finger  ?  " 

"  That  you'd  be  willing  to  wear  it  forever." 

"  But  you  said  I  must  give  it  up  when  I  was  no 
longer  Queen,"  she  said,  purposely  misquoting  him, 
in  a  way  women  will. 

"  That's  easy.  You'll  always  be  a  Queen."  Ob 
vious  as  was  the  remark,  somehow  Isyl  thought  it 
sounded  better  on  Tom's  lips  than  on  the  Grand 
Commander's. 

They  were  now  interrupted  by  visitors  coming 
to  greet  the  royal  pair.  As  Tom  was  talking  to 
them,  Isyl,  who  had  been  scrutinising  the  crowd, 
touched  his  arm. 

"  Look  there ! "  she  said.  "  See  those  two  just 
passing  the  door?  It  looks  awfully  like  Norine 
Almeric!  Do  you  suppose  it  could  possibly  be 
she?" 

Tom  looked  and  saw  the  couple.  "  Your  Maj 
esty,"  he  said,  so  that  all  could  hear,  "they  cer 
tainly  are  suspicious  characters.  Let  us  have  them 
arrested  by  the  Captain  of  the  Guard  and  brought 
before  us." 

[234] 


THE  CARNIVAL 

Isyl  consented,  and  Tom,  as  King,  ordered  the 
pair  haled  before  the  throne.  Two  pages  rushed 
across  the  hall  and  made  known  the  royal  com 
mand,  bringing  their  prisoners.  By  this  time  a  con 
siderable  number  of  spectators,  drawn  by  the  ex 
citement,  had  collected  about  the  dais.  The  two 
prisoners  knelt  in  mock  obeisance  before  the  co- 
sovereigns. 

Tom  arose  and  stretched  forth  his  sceptre. 
"Minions,"  he  said,  "do  Her  Majesty's  bidding 
and  unmask  the  prisoners !  " 

In  a  second  the  masks  were  torn  off.  Norine 
stood  before  the  throne,  smiling  gaily.  Beside  her 
was  a  tall  Englishman,  with  a  curly  moustache. 

"  Oh,  Miss  Almeric,  it  is  you,  after  all !  Where, 
oh,  where  have  you  been  all  this  time  ?  You  must 
explain  it  now ! " 

"No,  indeed,"  said  Norine,  kissing  Isyl's  hand. 
"  Your  Majesty  really  is  mistaken.  Truly,  I  am  not 
Miss  Almeric ! " 

"  Not  Miss  Almeric ! "  cried  Isyl,  "  who  are  you, 
then?" 

"  I  am  Mrs.  Montgomery  Lee,  if  you  please ! 
Allow  me  to  present  my  husband!"  and  both 
bowed  again. 

[235] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ISYL 

Isyl  turned  to  Tom.  "  Why  didn't  you  tell  me 
before  ?  "  she  demanded. 

"  I  couldn't.     I  promised  to  keep  the  secret." 

"  When  were  you  married  ?  "  Isyl  asked. 

"The  night  of  the  Coronation — at  Golcher's," 
said  the  bride. 

"  Then  it's  all  right  ?  All  except  the  ring— this 
is  yours,  isn't  it?"  And  Isyl  showed  the  sapphire. 

"  No,  it  is  yours  !  "  said  Mrs.  Lee,  and  then  she 
came  nearer  so  that  the  rest  might  not  hear.  "  I 
do  hope  you'll  keep  it,  Isyl !  I  can  recommend  him 
fully." 

Tom  grinned  again  and  murmured  in  Isyl's  ear, 
"warranted  not  to  warp,  fade,  stretch,  shrink,  or 
wear  out  at  the  heels." 

Many  people  now  crowded  about  the  bride,  con 
gratulating  her  and  asking  endless  questions.  The 
news  spread  over  the  hall  like  wildfire,  and  soon 
she  was  surrounded  by  eager,  astonished  friends. 

From  this  tumult  Montgomery  Lee  rescued  her 
with  difficulty.  "  I  say,"  he  announced,  "  don't  you 
know,  I  expect  we  are  getting  to  be  more  promi 
nent  than  if  you  were  Queen  after  all !  Suppose 
we  adjourn  to  the  supper-room  and  talk  it  over 
there.  I'm  beastly  hungry,  myself,  and  if  we  can 
[236] 


THE  CARNIVAL 

only  get  off  by  ourselves,  Norine  will  tell  you  the 
whole  story  while  I  eat.'* 

The  crowd  was  finally  evaded,  and  the  Queen 
led  the  way  with  Tom  to  the  supper-room.  But, 
despite  Isyl's  request,  Norine  would  not  take  the 
place  of  honour  at  the  table  reserved  for  the  Court. 

"  No,  I  renounced  the  throne  and  all  its  pomp 
and  glory  to  become  plain  Mrs.  Lee.  None  but  a 
maiden  should  be  Queen  of  Youth  and  Beauty,  and 
Isyl  shall  keep  her  place." 

The  supper  proceeded  gaily,  Norine' s  explana 
tion  being  kept  till  the  last.  Tom  sat  beside  Isyl, 
he  in  motley  and  she  in  her  royal  robes.  They 
were  so  absorbed  in  each  other,  so  patently  happy, 
that  more  than  one  person  at  the  Court  table 
glanced  at  the  two  and  smiled. 

He  was  describing  to  her  his  ridiculous  adven 
ture  in  the  Mirror  Maze, — how,  darting  behind  the 
first  corner  he  had  allowed  the  Grand  Commander 
to  pass  him,  how  the  Commander,  absorbed  in  his 
ruse,  dropping  his  scraps  of  paper  had  gone  far 
ahead  and  allowed  his  victim  to  escape  immedi 
ately — when  Isyl  and  Tom  were  aroused  from 
their  conversation  by  the  call  of  "story!  story!" 
from  the  Court. 

[237] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ISYL 

All  eyes  turned  to  Norine,  now,  and,  the  general 
talk  having  subsided,  she  began  the  history  of  hef 
love  affair  with  "  Gummy  "  Lee. 

The  Queen-Elecfs  Story 

THE  COERCION  OF  PAPA 

Or,  Love  Politic 

IN  some  ways,  papa's  funny.  He  knows  men 
pretty  well — that's  his  business, — but  he  really 
knows  no  more  about  women  than  a  boy  of 
ten.  I  suppose  it's  because  my  mother  died  so  long 
ago,  when  I  was  born.  Of  course  he  thinks  the 
world  of  me  and  he's  awfully  proud  of  me,  so  much 
so  that  it's  often  embarrassing.  When  I  was  only 
four  years  old  sometimes  he'd  send  up  for  me  and 
have  me  brought  downstairs,  to  show  how  smart  I 
was.  He'd  put  me  up  on  the  dinner-table,  in  my  night 
gown,  and  bet  I  could  walk  down  the  whole  length 
of  the  table-cloth  without  touching  a  dish  or  tipping 
over  a  candlestick.  When  I  was  seven  I  could  play 
"  Boston  "  almost  as  well  as  he  could,  and  he  used 
to  be  tickled  to  death  when  I  beat  his  friends. 

But  you  know  how  it  is,  usually,  when  a  father 
spoils  his  child.  He  gives  her  everything  she  doesn't 
[238] 


THE  CARNIVAL 

want,  and  when  it  comes  to  something  that  her 
heart  is  set  on,  she  can't  have  it.  That's  the  way 
it  was  with  me,  and  I've  had  to  manage  papa  ever 
since  I  began  to  take  notice.  Sometimes  I  can  do 
it  by  jollying  him ;  for  papa  thinks  I'm  funny, 
amongst  other  foolish  things  he's  proud  of.  Until  I 
was  eleven,  all  I  had  to  do  to  get  almost  anything 
I  wanted,  was  to  make  up  an  awful  face,  and 
papa'd  howl  at  the  joke  and  let  me  have  my  way. 

But  the  things  I've  really  wanted  most  of  all,  of 
course  he  wouldn't  let  me  have.  I  wanted  to  go  to 
Wellesley  College,  and  I  did  my  best  to  persuade 
him,  but  he  simply  couldn't  stand  the  idea  of  my 
being  way  off  in  Massachusetts  for  so  long,  and  I  had 
to  go  to  Stanford  University  instead.  Papa  thought 
I  didn't  care,  when  he  gave  me  two  new  dresses  to 
make  up  for  my  disappointment,  but  I  felt  pretty  bad 
about  it. 

I'm  glad  I  went  to  Stanford  for  a  great  many 
reasons;  mostly  because  if  I  hadn't,  I  probably 
wouldn't  have  met  Mr.  Lee,  and  I  wouldn't 
be  Mrs.  Montgomery  Lee  to-day.  But  I  might 
have  met  him,  and  still  not  be  Mrs.  Lee  now, 
if  it  hadn't  been  for  Tom  Parrish.  His  wed 
ding  present  was  the  only  one  I  got,  when  I  was 
[239] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ISYL 

married,  and  it  was  the  best  kind  of  one — a 
husband. 

I've  known  Tom  for  a  long  time,  ever  since  he 
was  a  boy  on  his  uncle's  ranch.  He  was  two  years 
ahead  of  me  in  college,  but  we  were  good  friends 
there.  He  and  I  led  the  Junior  Prom,  and  we  had 
what  he  used  to  call  an  "  offensive  and  defensive 
alliance  against  the  square-heads" — which  simply 
meant  that  when  I  needed  a  man  to  help  me  out, 
he  was  ready,  as  I  was  ready  to  help  him,  if  he 
needed  a  girl-friend.  You  know  that  Tom  was 
probably  the  most  popular  man  that  ever  went  to 
Stanford,  and  for  that  reason,  after  he  left,  he  be 
came  a  kind  of  college  myth.  Every  funny  thing 
that  ever  happened  was  told  with  Tom  Parrish  as 
the  hero,  and  if  it  wasn't  true,  it  was  at  least  proba 
ble,  for  if  there  was  any  mischief  there  he  was 
usually  in  it.  So,  when  he  came  back  to  the  Quad, 
as  he  did  occasionally,  he  was  treated  as  a  sort  of 
demi-god  by  the  undergraduates,  and  Freshmen 
would  boast  of  having  shaken  hands  with  him. 

It  was  in  my  senior  year  that  J.  Montgomery  Lee 

came  to  Palo  Alto  to  give  a  series  of  lectures  on 

"  The  Influence  of  Greek  Ideals  on  the  Pre-Renais- 

sance  Period."    You   would  never  have  thought 

[240] 


THE  CARNIVAL 

that  a  madcap  like  Tom  would  become  such  good 
friends  with  an  Oxford  Senior  Classic,  but  the  two 
men  seemed  to  take  to  each  other  from  the  start— 
I  suppose  it  was  because  they  were  so  absolutely 
different.  Tom  was  calling  Mr.  Lee  "Gummy" 
the  second  time  they  met.  The  new  Englishman 
was  introduced  to  me,  of  course,  according  to  the 
rules  of  the  "  Offensive  and  Defensive  League,'*  and 
Gummy  soon  became  a  member  of  the  alliance. 
He  was  about  as  far  from  being  a  typical  college 
professor  as  you  can  get,  without  coming  to  Tom 
Parrish.  But  then,  of  course,  Mr.  Lee  was  never 
a  member  of  the  faculty,  only  an  extra  lecturer  for 
one  semester. 

Tom  went  back  to  his  ranch,  but  Gummy  stayed 
at  Palo  Alto  the  whole  winter,  and  by  Christmas 
he  and  I  had  come  to  an  understanding.  This  isn't 
a  love  story,  but  politics,  so  I  won't  say  any  more 
than  that  my  candidate  for  husband  was  nominated 
and  unanimously  elected  at  the  stile  in  Lover's 
Lane,  over  by  the  Stock  Farm.  There  was  very 
little  opposition  from  me,  and  Tom  Parrish  ratified 
the  election  at  a  rousing  meeting.  The  bill  was 
now  ready  for  papa  to  sign,  and  we  had  every  ex 
pectation  of  a  veto. 

[241] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ISYL 

Papa  had  never  heard  of  J.  Montgomery  Lee, 
of  course,  and  so,  to  find  out  where  he  stood  upon 
the  important  question,  I  got  him  down  to  Stan 
ford  and  insisted  upon  his  going  with  me  to  hear 
one  of  Gummy* s  lectures.  It  happened  to  be  Bot 
ticelli  and  Fra  Angelico  that  day,  and,  if  you  know 
papa,  you  can  imagine  what  a  hit  Gummy  made. 

After  it  was  over,  I  waked  papa  up  and  asked 
him  if  he  didn't  want  to  meet  the  lecturer. 

"No,  I  do  not! "  he  said,  "that  young  fellow  is 
beyond  repair." 

Of  course  I  saw  that  I  hadn't  gone  about  it  right, 
but  I  was  mad  and  told  him  how  clever  Gummy 
really  was,  an  Oxford  don  and  all  that,  which  only 
made  papa  worse.  He  called  Gummy  a  remit 
tance  man,  and  made  fun  of  his  clothes  and  his  ac 
cent  and  his  eye-glass.  I  said  he  was  handsome, 
and  papa  said, 

"  Handsome  is  as  handsome  does,  and  that  Brit 
isher  would  get  handsomely  done  in  San  Jose ! " 

I  said  that  he  talked  beautifully,  and  papa  asked 
why  he  didn't  learn  the  American  language?  The 
case  looked  hopeless,  and  I  felt  pretty  badly 
about  it. 

I  sent  for  Tom,  then,  and  the  "offensive  and 
[242] 


THE  CARNIVAL 

defensive  alliance"  went  into  executive  session. 
Gummy  wanted  to  go  right  to  San  Jose  to  see  papa 
and  ask  his  consent,  English  fashion,  but  Tom 
stopped  that. 

"See  here,"  he  said,  "what  we've  got  to  do  is 
not  to  deal  with  the  father,  but  the  politician.  Mr. 
Almeric,  as  Norine  will  tell  you,  is  the  sort  of 
blindly  doting  parent  that  will  give  his  daughter 
anything  except  what  she  wants  most.  This  thing 
can't  be  done  in  an  interview — it's  a  campaign! 
We've  got  to  fight  fire  with  fire.  We've  got  to  beat 
him  at  his  own  game.  It  will  never  do  for  you  to 
want  Norine ;  Mr.  Almeric  has  gpt  to  want  you ! 
If  he  finds  you're  not  for  sale,  he'll  employ  the  same 
methods  he's  used  for  fifteen  years  to  Lring  his  op 
ponents  to  terms.  And  he  always  wins.  My  motto 
is :  'Be  coy,  be  coy ;  but  not  too  coy  1  As  for 
you,  Norine,  all's  fair  in  love  and  politics;  you've 
got  to  disguise  the  naked  truth  and  do  some  scien 
tific  weeping." 

He  gave  us  his  scheme,  and,  after  he  went  home 
to  the  ranch  he  sent  back  type-written  instructions, 
bound  into  a  funny  little  pamphlet  with  the  title, 
"  How  to  Win  a  Husband  Under  Difficulties :  A 
Key  to  Political  Courtship.  By  T.  Parrish,  Esq.," 
[243] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ISYL 
and  as  we  had  nothing  better  to  try,  we  took  Tom's 
ridiculous  advice. 

My  first  move  was  to  give  papa  the  idea  that 
Mr.  Lee  was  immensely  important  and  was  made 
a  great  deal  of  at  the  University,  which  was  mostly 
true,  and  then  I  told  him  that  I  had  tried  to  get  in 
troduced  to  Mr.  Lee,  and  had  been  badly  snubbed. 
I  made  Gummy  act  this  out,  so  it  wouldn't  seem 
like  quite  so  much  of  a  fib.  This  worked  very  well. 
Papa  was  indignant. 

"Wouldn't  look  at  you,  eh?  I'd  like  to  know 
why  my  daughter  isn't  good  enough  for  any  Eng 
lish  tourist  that  ever  came  over  on  a  Cook's  Excur 
sion  !  Snubbed  you,  did  he  ?  You're  too  good  to 
wipe  your  feet  on  the  Prince  of  Wales !  Dines  with 
the  Pendragons  ?  Pshaw !  Don't  I  dine  there  too  ? 
I've  got  Pendragon  in  the  palm  of  my  hand.  I'll  bet 
we  dine  there  within  two  weeks." 

And  so  we  did.  I  don't  know  how  papa 
managed  it,  but  Gummy  was  there  too,  and  if  you 
ever  saw  a  horrid  Englishman,  he  was  one.  He 
acted  just  the  way  they  do  on  the  stage,  except  that 
he  didn't  have  side  whiskers,  and  he  did  wear 
evening  dress  instead  of  tweeds.  He  got  into  a 
discussion  with  papa,  and  told  him  just  what  he 
[244] 


THE  CARNIVAL 

thought  of  American  politicians.    He  said  no  Eng 
lishman  could  ever  be  bribed. 

On  the  way  home  papa  was  furious.  He  said 
he'd  have  that  Briton  on  his  knees  before  long, 
and  there  was  more  than  one  way  to  get  hold  of  a 
man  without  buying  him. 

Amongst  other  things  we  talked  about  at  the 
Pendragons'  was  some  old  Spanish  manuscripts  at 
Mission  Santa  Clara,  and  Gummy  had  said  he'd  like 
to  see  them.  Of  course,  it  was  considered  impossible 
to  obtain  them,  for  they  were  thought  a  great  deal 
of  by  the  priests.  But  what  did  papa  do  but  work 
his  Catholic  friends,  and  he  got  the  manuscript 
books,  and  sent  them  over  to  Mr.  Lee  with  his  com 
pliments,  and  said  he'd  be  glad  to  give  him  any  as 
sistance  if  he  wanted  to  look  up  the  early  California 
records.  Gummy  was  pleased,  for  he  had  use  for 
the  papers.  But  he  was  more  pleased,  and  so  was 
I,  that  papa  had  swallowed  the  bait. 

The  next  thing  Gummy  said  to  me  in  fun,  at 
Tom's  request,  and  I  repeated  it  to  my  papa  in 
earnest,  was  that,  while  he  was  willing  to  have  official 
dealings  with  a  political  boss,  he  couldn't  meet  him 
socially.  Papa  went  up  in  the  air  when  I  told  him. 
It  was  really  awfully  funny,  though  I  hated  myself  for 
[245] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ISYL 
doing  it.   But  I  was  bound  to  win.  I  suppose  there's 
a  chip  of  the  old  block  in  me. 

Papa  wrote  immediately  and  invited  Gummy  to 
dinner,  and  Gummy  sent  back  regrets.  Then  papa 
had  him  put  up  for  membership  at  the  Santa  Clara 
Club,  and  elected  over  the  heads  of  about  a  hun 
dred  applicants  for  admission  on  the  waiting  list. 
Gummy  joined,  and  bowed  stiffly  to  papa  when  they 
met.  Meanwhile  we  were  seeing  each  other  as 
often  as  we  could  at  Tom's  ranch,  and  I  was  crazy 
to  tell  papa  the  truth  about  it,  but  Tom  held  us 
back.  I  suppose  he  had  begun  to  take  a  kind  of 
pride  in  his  management,  and  wanted  to  have  the 
fun  of  it.  One  day  Gummy  was  driving  me  home 
in  his  buggy,  and  we  saw  papa  coming  our  way. 
We  had  no  time  to  turn  round,  and  I  had  to  drop 
down  on  the  floor  behind  the  lap-robe  and  cover 
myself  up  so  that  papa  wouldn't  see  me. 

"  Say,  Lee ! "  he  said,  as  he  pulled  up  his  horse, 
"  wait  a  minute,  won't  you  ?  Can't  you  come  over 
to  my  place  to-night  and  take  pot  luck  ?  I'd  like 
you  to  meet  my  daughter — perhaps  you'd  like  her 
better  than  you  do  me.  She's  a  nice  little  girl,  if  I 
do  say  it.  Have  you  ever  seen  her  at  Stanford's  ?  " 

"  Why,  I  don't  remember,  really,  I  see  so  many 
[246] 


THE  CARNIVAL 

young  persons  there,"  Gummy  drawled.  "Oh, 
she  has  red  hair  and  freckles,  hasn't  she  ?  " 

I  just  pounded  his  leg,  and  then  stuck  a  pin  into 
it,  for  it  struck  me  he  was  going  a  little  too  far.  I 
was  afraid  papa  would  strike  him,  too,  but  no — 
papa  just  took  it,  and  acted  so  like  a  managing 
mamma  that  I  was  positively  ashamed. 

"  Why,  I  think  she  s  pretty ! "  he  said.  "  She's  a 
tidy  little  woman." 

"  Sorry,  don't  you  know,  but  really,  I  doubt  if  I 
can  find  time  to-night,  Mr.  Almeric,"  Gummy  said. 
;<  Women  rather  bore  me.  American  girls  strike 
me  as  being  so  frivolous,  don't  you  think?"  I 
stuck  the  hat-pin  into  him  again,  and  he  drove  off  in 
a  hurry.  Oh,  I  was  mad !  He  had  done  it  alto 
gether  too  well,  and  he  had  to  kiss  every  one  of  my 
freckles  before  I'd  forgive  him  that  horrid  remark. 

Now,  you'd  think  that  was  pretty  crude  work, 
wouldn't  you  ?  You'd  think  that  papa  would  be  so 
mad  he'd  never  have  a  thing  to  do  with  Gummy 
again.  I  did,  anyway,  and  I  hardly  dared  go  home 
and  see  him.  But  what  d'you  think?  Papa  was 
more  determined  than  ever  that  he'd  have  Gummy 
at  the  house.  You  see,  he  just  has  to  have  his 
own  way,  and  when  anybody  baffles  him,  he  thinks 
[247] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ISYL 
of  nothing  in  the  world  but  to  win.  No  managing 
mamma  with  an  overgrown  daughter  to  marry  off 
could  have  acted  worse  than  he  did.  If  it  hadn't 
been  that  Gummy  understood,  I'd  have  died  of 
shame. 

Next  day  papa  got  me  to  go  buggy-riding,  and 
the  first  thing  I  knew  we  were  turning  into  the  Lees' 
place.  Papa  insisted  that  he  had  to  go  in  on  some 
Prune  Association  business.  What  he  really 
wanted  was  for  Gummy  to  see  me,  for  before  we 
started  he  had  told  me  what  dress  to  wear,  and  had 
insisted  that  I  do  my  hair  over  again.  Just  before 
we  got  to  the  Lees'  door,  he  stopped  and  said : 

"  See  here,  little  girl,  I  want  you  to  invite  this 
Lee  to  dinner,  if  you  get  a  chance,  and  I  guess  if 
you  do  it,  he  can't  refuse.  If  he  says  he  can't  come, 
you  ask  when  he  can,  and  get  him  to  set  a  day." 
The  boldness  of  it  made  me  positively  blush,  but  it 
was  only  Gummy  and  I  didn't  care  much. 

Well,  I  winked  at  Gummy,  and  he  accepted  the 
invitation.  Papa  spent  a  lot  of  money  on  that  din 
ner,  and  got  a  lot  of  the  swellest  people  he  knew  to 
come,  and  put  Gummy  at  my  right  hand.  Gummy 
flirted  outrageously  with  the  girl  on  the  other  side, 
and  hardly  spoke  to  me  during  the  dinner.  After 
[248] 


THE  CARNIVAL 

all  the  guests  had  gone,  I  slipped  down  on  a  sofa 
and  began  to  cry.  I  didn't  have  to  try  very  hard, 
either,  for  the  whole  thing  was  wearing  on  me,  and 
Gummy  did  seem  to  be  remarkably  interested  in 
that  other  girl. 

Papa  came  over  to  me  and  tried  to  soothe  me. 
"  Brace  up,  little  girl,"  he  said,  "  he  did  treat  you 
pretty  bad,  but  he'll  come  round  all  right.  You 
don't  really  care  for  him,  do  you  ?  " 

I  said  I  did,  and  I  tell  you  I  was  glad  that  there 
didn't  have  to  be  any  more  make-believe.  Papa 
swore  that  if  I  couldn't  get  the  man  I  wanted,  he'd 
find  out  the  reason  why. 

So  we  went  on,  Gummy  getting  gradually  warmer 
and  thawing  out  of  what  papa  called  his  British  re 
serve.  He  would  have  had  a  different  idea  of 
British  reserve  if  he  had  caught  us  two  together 
oftener.  Papa  would  invite  Gummy  to  the  theatre, 
and  leave  us  two  in  the  box  alone  for  half  the  per 
formance  while  he  talked  politics  in  the  lobby. 
Then  he  began  to  advise  me  how  to  manage 
Gummy,  and  if  I  had  taken  his  advice  I  would  have 
thrown  myself  at  his  head  like  a  shop-girl.  Papa 
said  I  didn't  encourage  the  man  enough.  That 
man  didn't  need  much  encouragement,  you  had 
[249] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ISYL 
better  believe.  We  just  got  off  the  sofa  in  time 
to  be  on  opposite  sides  of  the  room  when  papa 
came  in,  more  than  once !  And  papa  was  as  in 
nocent  as  a  child  of  what  was  happening  under  his 
very  eyes.  Once  while  he  was  reading,  facing  us, 
with  the  newspaper  in  front  of  him,  Gummy  kissed 
me  right  there!  And  after  Gummy  went,  papa 
said  Englishmen  were  so  slow  they  made  him  tired ! 
When  papa  got  Gummy  a  political  job,  we 
thought  the  time  had  come  for  the  denouement 
He  had  Gummy  appointed  State  Translator,  which 
is  the  only  office  an  alien  can  hold  in  California, 
and  it  was  an  easy  place  with  a  good  salary.  As 
soon  as  this  was  settled,  Gummy  dropped  the  mask, 
and  began  to  come  to  see  us  regularly,  and  finally, 
after  a  month  or  so,  he  went  to  papa  and  formally 
asked  for  my  hand.  Papa  came  to  me  with  the 
news,  thinking  Gummy  was  so  British  that  he  would 
ask  the  parent's  consent  first.  He  was  smiling  all 
over,  just  as  if  he  were  bringing  me  a  new  doll, 
and  I  blushingly  informed  him  that  I  accepted  the 
alliance  with  J.  Montgomery  Lee.  He  took  me 
up  in  his  arms  the  way  he  used  to  when  I  was  a 
little  girl,  and  said,  "  Ah,  I  thought  I  would  bring 
him  round,  if  I  played  him  right ! " 
[250] 


EPILOGUE 

X 

EPILOGUE 

€JHOW  La  Beale  Norine  finished  her  tale,  and  the 
Queen  was  affianced  before  the  Court. 

NORINE  had  gone  so  far  when  she  was  in 
terrupted  by  Tom,  who  had  seen  some 
thing  at  the  other  end  of  the  room  that 
justified  his  breaking  into  the  narrative. 

"Just  wait  a  moment,  Norine!"  he  exclaimed. 
"  Look  over  there !  If  there  isn't  old  man  Golcher 
after  all!  We  must  have  him  over  here  in  the 
whirl,  the  old  cynic !  " 

He  went  over  to  the  doorway  where  Golcher 
stood  gazing  jovially  at  the  merriment,  and  both 
soon  returned  to  the  Court  table.  Golcher,  to 
everybody's  surprise,  was  in  costume,  and,  when 
they  looked  at  him,  unmasked,  they  recalled  the 
lively  abandon  of  a  masked  policeman  on  the  danc 
ing-floor. 

"You  must   have   experienced   a    pronounced 
change  of  heart,"  said  Tom,  as  they  sat  down. 
" I  did! "  said  Golcher.     "  I  did,  because  I  had 
[251] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ISYL 

to.  This  ain't  my  Join's,  it's  the  old  lady's.  She's 
out  in  the  hall  yonder,  gossipin'.  She  wanted  to 
come.  She  put  her  foot  down,  an'  I  was  under 
that  foot!  So  I  come  along,  an*  hired  this  rig, 
seein'  I  might  as  well  be  hung  for  an  old  sheep  as 
a  lamb.  I  don't  know  but  I'd  be  willin'  to  admit 
now,  that  my  idees  on  Fi-estas  has  changed  some. 
I  ain't  enjoyed  myself  so  much  since  I  broke  my  leg! " 

"  What  converted  the  strategic  Mrs.  G.?  "  asked 
Tom. 

"  I  expect  it  was  what  happened  to  the  house, 
an'  the  sight  o'  the  queen's  togs  an'  all.  You  druv 
us  out  o'  house  an'  home,  anyway — we  might  as 
well  come  up  here  an'  see  the  fun  as  well  as  go  an* 
be  talked  to  death  over  to  my  wife's  relations,  I  ex 
pect.  But  don't  let  me  interrupt  the  ceremonies. 
You  seemed  to  be  havin*  a  pretty  lively  time  over 
somethin'  as  I  looked  in  the  door." 

"  Yes !  "  cried  the  Chamberlain  to  Norine,  "  you 
haven't  explained  why  you  ran  away  with  Mr.  Lee, 
when  your  father  was  so  agreeable  to  the  match. 
Why  did  you  leave  us  in  the  lurch  at  the  last  mo 
ment?" 

"Ah,  there's  a  tragic  Envoi  to  that  tale,"  said 
Tom. 

[252] 


EPILOGUE 

Norine  giggled.  "  Indeed  there  was !  I  hap 
pened  to  leave  a  type-written  pamphlet  entitled 
'How  to  Win  a  Husband,  etc.,  by  T.  Parrish, 
Esq.,*  on  my  writing-desk,  and  papa  came  across 
it.  It  looked  amusing,  and  he  read  it.  It  was 
awful !  He  saw  through  the  whole  scheme,  then/* 

"  And  the  air  was  filled  with  fireworks  and  fly 
ing  fragments  of  J.  Montgomery  Lee/*  added  Tom. 

"Yes,  Gummy  didn't  have  a  leg  to  stand  on,*' 
said  Norine. 

"  I  jolly  well  lost  my  billet  as  State  Translator,*' 
said  the  young  husband,  twirling  his  moustache. 

"  I  remember ! "  chimed  in  two  or  three  male 
members  of  the  Court.  A  recent  mystery  in  local 
politics  was  thus  cleared  up. 

"  Papa  was  simply  furious,  of  course,**  Norine 
went  on.  "He  swore  that  I  should  not  marry 
Gummy  as  long  as  he  lived.  I  haven't  seen  him 
so  mad  since  he  lost  the  State  Senatorship !  Then 
he  made  me  run  for  Queen  of  the  Fiesta.  I  didn't 
want  to  do  it  but  I  had  to,  and  of  course  I  was 
elected.  I  swore  to  myself  that  I'd  never  take  it,  and 
the  '  offensive  and  defensive  alliance '  cooked  up  the 
scheme  for  me  to  elope  that  night  with  Gummy. 
First,  because  papa  had  made  me  be  queen,  just,  as 
[253] 


THE  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ISYL 
he  thought,  to  keep  me  out  of  harm's  way,  and  I 
wanted  to  show  that  I  couldn't  be  managed  like  a 
child.  Second,  because  we  could  be  sure  that 
everybody  would  be  busy  about  something  else,  and 
third,  because  I  knew  Isyl  ought  to  be  Queen,  and 
she  would  make  a  prettier  and  better  one  than  I 
would." 

"  And  fourth,"  added  Tom,  "  to  save  us  all  the 
trouble  and  expense  of  buying  you  silver  ice-cream 
spoons  and  cut-glass  salad  bowls  for  wedding  pres 
ents.  I  tell  you,  many  a  school-marm  in  the  County 
has  saved  her  little  old  two  and  a  half  that  would 
have  been  chipped  into  a  pool  to  buy  you  a  Rogers 
statuette!" 

"And  what  did  Tom  do?"  Isyl  asked. 

"  Everything ! "  said  Norine. 

"  Except  marry  her,"  Gummy  Lee  insisted. 

"  I  personally  conducted  the  punitive  expedition," 
Tom  explained.  "I  hired  our  friend  Golcher's 
house  for  the  scene  of  the  tragedy,  I  got  Parson 
Jones  to  preside,  and,  when  the  fatal  plunge  was 
over,  I  hiked  back  to  act  as  steering  committee  for 
the  involuntary  Queen,  and  there  I  met  my  doom." 

Gummy  Lee  arose  and  held  his  wine  glass  aloft. 
"  Gentlemen,  the  Queen,  God  bless  her ! "  he  cried. 
[254] 


EPILOGUE 

The  health  was  drunk  with  a  tumult  of  cheering. 
Then,  as  they  took  their  seats  again,  the  Grand 
Commander,  who  had  edged  his  way  to  the  table, 
snapped  his  watch  and  remarked : 

"Ladies  and  gentlemen,  it  is  twelve  o'clock. 
The  reign  of  Queen  Isyl  is  over ! " 

Old  man  Golcher  arose  deliberately.  "  Young 
feller,*'  he  cried,  smiling  with  indulgence  at  the 
Queen  and  the  Jester,  "you  happen  to  be  dead 
wrong,  this  time,  as  usual !  It  looks  to  me  like  the 
reign  of  Queen  Isyl  had  just  about  begun ! " 


The  End 


[255] 


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